Dark Angel
by IceCamaro
Summary: Posted.... again.
1. Default Chapter

This story is being re-released onto this site after being deleted with my account due to another story being viewed as explicit. I have decided not to redo or edit the content of this story. Understand that I was young when I wrote this an as such, there are errors and grammar problems that I no longer have.

I made my decision based on the fact that I want to look back as an author and see how much I've grown, both as a writer and as a person. Everything we do in life is a little portion of it and mistakes are as well. I guess I like to think of this story as a piece of my past.

Untouched, unchanged.

Dark Angel

Prologue

This is my first attempt at a fanfiction… but please do not let that sway you. The tale I have to tell is of unfathomable details and took a year of writing to begin.. During the writing of this epic tale, I experienced many things.. I believe these experiences were reflected in my writing and you may see that in later chapters I have added more details and seemed to mature.

Things people want to know: Will there be a lemon?... the answer is simply this.. I'm not telling. If people are only reading my story for juicy sexual manipulations.. then they probably won't be satisfied.. for those who are reading for the purpose of greater meaning to life.. then perhaps you will feel a sense of contentment.

I will only put one disclaimer on the first chapter. Other then that.. they can sue me. Also at the end of each chapter I'm not even going to bother to ask for reviews and such.. I trust this fanfiction enough to expect to be emailed at If not, then what can I do?

But this much I can say… as many stories written in history..

This story… is about love. So is that how I should begin.. or. Should I simply give you a bit of head way as to what this is about.. alright.. perhaps a bit of history is needed..

This epic struggle, you could say, takes place long, long after the last of the Z warriors has fallen.. When I say long.. I mean thousands of years. No longer the furious battles and forbidden loves between Saiyan and human.. I say this simply because neither exists. A single entity of races had been formed.. Unfortunately hatred split the gene in half and therefore spawned the age of Demons and Angels.. This story isn't religious. It's actually rather scientific in a few parts. Basically it has just about everything.. love, hate, betrayal.. you name it.. but then.. I'm getting ahead of myself. At this time Vegeta is the King of Demons. Bulma is the Princess of Angels. Sounds lame, I know.. but I suppose I'm terrible at starting stories. What else can I say? Ah yes.. Angels and Demons are a far superior to humans.. meaning they live longer and of course can fly. They have wings. Alright.. the rest I leave a mystery. I trust that if any one reading this can appreciate a good tale they will review. But that is the last time I will ask. Any further information will be in the story..

So… without further ado… Dark Angel.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Alright.. I said I'd only do this once and I plan on sticking to that! Haha.. alright here goes! (clears throat) I officially do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters in it.. If I did.. I'd have made Chi chi a quiet blonde, Gohan with some balls, and Bulma would never have cut her hair.. I mean come on! If I had pretty blue hair.. I'd grow that shit out! Uhh... sorry.. Getting ahead of my self.. haha.. well I guess I'll just have to be happy with long blonde hair.. Oh and by the way.. I'm 17. so if that reflects on my writing.. GIVE ME A FREAKING BREAK!

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 2**

He sat there, amongst the pits of hell, listening morbidly to the screams

and sobs of forsaken souls, tortured in the afterlife. A look of satisfaction warmed his face and a sick beam of light glittered in his heartless eyes. He was Vegeta, Lord of the Underworld. Protector of all that was evil and wicked of heart. He gloried in all that was forbidden and pure hatred coursed through his unholy veins. A high pitched wail broke free through the air not far from where he sat, perched so still he resembled a stone gargoyle. He smiled wickedly as he noted that the fear stricken scream had torn through a woman, a former servant of his that had recently lost her usefulness by awkwardly spilling wine on the castle floor. His only pleasure in life was to torture and kill in order to become stronger.

Finishing his meditation on dark thoughts, he stood up and stretched his graceful bat-like wings. He was beautiful in appearance and perfect in stature. He was flawless and dark with a heart shaped face and God-like body etched with muscle, covered by black leather. His outfit complemented his shape, perfectly showing each rippling tendon although it covered his entire body. His face had sharp features. Black eyes and full burgundy lips. Strong cheek bones and well chiseled jaw line. When he smiled his over enlarged canines glimmered sharply as if hungry for blood. He stood straight and walked with authority, his gigantic black wings looming about him wickedly.

He walked towards the castle, a huge ageless tower shadowing the rivers of blood streaming around it. Bodies and appendages floated in the moat surrounding the dark castle. As he walked up the steps to his quarters the very surface of the floor shook at his touch. His servants eyes widened each time he looked in their direction and their bodies quaked with fear if they met his ice cold gaze. He was both fire and ice. This was his domain and he loved it, if indeed it were possible for such a creature to love.

Once in his room he was met by a fearful stare of a tied up man. The man's face was distorted and bloodied from obvious mistreatment. His body showed signs of starvation and his garments were torn. Sweat dripped from quivering brow. A large man stood near the pitiful shaking mass cowering on the floor.

"Yes?" Vegeta's viciously harsh voice sounded, causing more chills to flow through the tied up man on the floor.

"This creature was found stealing resources from the castle, your

highness." Replied the large man.

"Is that so, Radditz?" Vegeta sneered, "And what does he have to say?"

The frightened man only shook more violently when then Dark Lord's attention was directed towards him, and was rendered utterly speechless. A swift cracking kick in the ribs from Radditz sent him into hysterics as he pleaded for his life.

"P..Please..your Lordship. I-I was only going to take a little bit of food… for.for my family. They are starving. I… I beg of you, oh merciful Lord." He sobbed while bowing his head low to the ground.

"Please spare me so I can take care of my family. I know you are a just… and wise leader, sire." He pleaded, kissing the demon's feet.

"Go on." Vegeta remarked coolly, obviously interested in the man's word. A look of hope swept over the broken man's face as he continued his flattery.

"I can see…see it in your eyes your worship… You are a kind hearted man." He stammered.

"Oh?" replied Vegeta stepping closer and kneeling on the ground staring hard into the man's eyes. His wings seemed to entangle the two and floated about the tortured man in a seemingly taunting manner. Vegeta's face was mere inches from the man, his stare unwavering, his eyes looking curiously through the man's soul.

"How about now?" he asked in whisper.

"I..I see the same, Lord. You are merciful… and gracious… and kind…and" the man stammered on. A smile twinged at Vegeta's lips. His eyes revealed nothing the man claimed were there.

"You're right." Vegeta smiled. He lifted a hand to touch the man's quivering face. A look of terror washed over the man's wet face as the touch both froze and burned him at the same time. He had never felt anything so … evil.

"I am merciful." Vegeta whispered in his ear, so close his hot breath singed the man's facial hair.

"You die by fire." He said in mono tone. Standing up he looked at Radditz, who was wickedly grinning at the games his master was playing.

"Find his family." The King said frankly, looking at the man who had crumbled into a sobbing ball on the floor. Vegeta smiled at the questions racing through the man's face, daring him to believe this monster would take care of his family as payment for his sacrifice. Then he added,

"They can all roast together." His teeth glimmered.

"One. Big. Happy. Family."

The man screamed in disbelief.

"NO! NO! Please … Not my family! Please! I beg of you! Spare my family!"

Vegeta's face twinged in unbelievable bliss at the reaction. Unfortunately, he had other things to attend to. He laughed wickedly while Radditz dragged the screaming man out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 3**

Vegeta walked gracefully up a spiraling staircase to the main tower. Plans were to be made. The dark world was filled with turmoil. It had not been so since Vegeta had slaughtered his father, crowning himself as King of the Underworld. At that time all of the shadow creatures had been pleased with their new ruler's lack of conscience and heart of stone. Now their thirst for blood and chaos was causing uproars that even the King could not ignore. Even Hell had its limits.

They also longed for change and as always lusted for power over all things. Not being a ruler to displease his subjects, Vegeta was more then happy to silence their needs.

Finally reaching the conference hall, Vegeta was met by 7 warriors, each bowing low in respect for the King. Each knew well that even the slightest disregard for their master could send them to the pits of Hell to burn for eternity. They also knew that the gleam in the Dark Lord's eyes was not to be ignored… He had a plan.

Taking their places, they waited for what seemed a lifetime until Vegeta's icy voice sounded.

"Brothers. I have devised a plan that will conquer West Heaven, putting it under my control." Vegeta was pleased by the gasps and shocked faces that were his reply to the previous statement. But alas, there was more and he continued.

"Once I have complete control of West Heaven all of East Heaven will be quickly won and conquered." More gasps.

"Um…" standing up was a short, balding man who obviously had a question. Vegeta eyed the man suspiciously. This man was no Hell Warrior, but merely a scientist who had come in handy from time to time with demented torture tools. He had not gained any respect from the other battle hardened warriors in the room and certainly not from Vegeta who believed that worth was measured by strength alone. Even so, Vegeta humored the man by gesturing for him to go on.

"I.. don't think that is possible.. uh.. your most honorable worshipfulness." He stammered, "West Heaven's defenses are far more advanced then our own. If we so much as step past the barrier the High Lord will be notified and an all out war would begin, one that not even you could win." The others in the room sat in awe at the once seemingly cowardice man who had just informed the Demon King of his limitations. Even so, they sensed the anger seeping from Vegeta and quickly braced themselves.

"So. You doubt my abilities, Oolong?" He seethed. Oolong's feeling of self worth quickly deteriorated when he saw that Vegeta's once coal black eyes had a blood red circle around the pupil and in the iris. He choked out an apology too late. A large energy blast soared at him shattering his bones and disintegrating him in less than a second. Vegeta's burning eyes darted from one warrior to the next, searching all six that remained. Blood was spattered on his face and he looked on the verge of completely losing self control.

"Anyone else care to voice an opinion?" he growled in an unearthly tone. As no one answered Vegeta began to calm himself. Once he had control of his actions he again went on.

"The plan is simple. We cross the barrier of West Heaven causing an uproar, that Oolong so graciously predicted. With their defenses distracted, they will surely not notice the two warriors sent on a mission to infiltrate the High King's tower." Agreed looks came and went and although none of them had the slightest guess what that mission was they kept silent, allowing their master to continue at will with the details.

"The mission is simply this." He smirked.

"Infiltrate the castle.. Kidnap the High King's daughter. The angelic Princess Bulma."

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"Ridiculous!" Thundered the High King. His voice boomed throughout the entire Castle of Light. Still, his angelic daughter stood resolute, a stern look placed on her beautiful face.

"I've never heard such a preposterous idea. Demon's having souls. Bah! Ridiculous!" He hollered.

"Just because its unheard of does not mean it's preposterous, Father. Maybe if we just gave them a chance, we coul-"

"Gave them a chance! Bulma, you're dreaming!" He cut in.

"Demons do not have souls. You of all angels should know this. Or have you so conveniently forgotten the death of your own mother at the hands of the former Demon King?" Bulma swallowed hard. Of course she hadn't forgotten. She thought about it every day.

"No.. I have not forgotten father."

"Oh? Well then where was his heart? Hm? His soul?" he asked rudely.

"What about the fact that angels are supposed to show mercy and love to

all creatures!" Bulma shot back.

"Yes well.. we're also supposed to forgive and forget. Have you forgiven

that monster for killing your own mother while you watched?" His voiced cracked in the end and he turned away fiercely determined to stay strong in front of her. She swallowed again.

"That does not mean that all of them are entirely evil, Father. If we merely gave them the opportunity, perhaps even a treaty could be made."

"A treaty.. Made with hell!" He roared.

"And do you have any idea who that treaty would be made with Bulma?"

He glared at her not really expecting an answer.

"With the new Demon King." She stated boldly, pleased to have caught

him off guard at least this time.

"Yes. And do you have any idea what kind of man he is? He's far worse than even his father.. Then even his father's father. He's a blood sucking monster Bulma. He tortures. He kills. He destroys. He lives for those purposes alone. He even killed his own father without a moments thought when he felt it was his time to rule. He's a heartless murderer Bulma. Not a man to make treaties of any kind with." He tried to calm himself, shaking his head while continuing.

"You would understand if you were in my position-"

"But-"

"But you are NOT in my position!" he hollered cutting her off while pointing a finger near her face.

"Therefore you will honor my decisions as your father and your King. Find your place daughter. It is not here!"

Hurt, Bulma stormed out of the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The King hated himself for losing his temper with her. She was more upset than she let on and much more fragile than she let anyone know. Things had not been easy with them since he had announced her betroval to the East King's son, Prince Yamcha. He knew that Bulma cared deeply for the future King of East Heaven but despised being forced to do anything.

'So much like her mother.' He sighed to himself. She had believed much the way Bulma did, that creatures of light and dark could one day come to an agreement, ending all wars between them. The King had lost his Queen due to those distorted beliefs and refused to also lose his daughter to them.

Bulma marched angrily to her room. She was disgusted with herself for letting him see her cry. Some "High King of love and kindness" he was! She lay down on her bed pondering all that was said. His mention of her mother had cut into as deeply as it has caught her off guard. She closed her eyes as flashes of an unwanted memory coursed through her head.

The tall handsome warrior draped in black, holding her mother suspended in the air. His black leathery wings batting gracefully in wicked delight. Her mother's face distorted in pain and horror. She could sense her mother's feeling of betrayal as the evil King laughed before drawing his fangs to the queen exposed throat.

The alarm sounded, breaking through the memory. Bulma felt a wave of relief before noting the seriousness of the situation. The demons had not attacked since the death of their Lord and the alarm had startled all the palace's angels into a chaotic frenzy of hysterics. They darted around in confusion, filling the halls with their wails and scurried footsteps. Some found shelter in the dungeons, foolishly believing that was the safest place in case the demons somehow did manage to surpass the barrier and rage a full out attack. Other's that did not share this view point, emptied the castle entirely searching elsewhere for safety.

Bulma stayed in her quarters. She refused to hide like a whimpering child or run away like a thief in the night. She had her dignity. Besides, if the demons did win the battle, there would be no safe place. If she was going to die, she would do so with honor.

Still, bravery could not help her in this situation. The blindly heroic side of her longed to follow her father out to battle. Perhaps not even to engage but to watch. Yet, she knew if she followed he would thrust her away, telling her it was not her place.

She lay down on her soft bed pulling the white sheets over her and staring around at the white room.. How boring. Was heaven so unoriginal that a color assortment was completely unheard of?

"Where exactly is my place?" she stated out loud. She had meant for it to be only to herself but it was obvious that she had startled the two male angels in charge of guarding her room. Slightly blushing, she waved her hand snobbily, motioning them out of the room and ordering them silently to close the door behind them.

Her place certainly wasn't here. With her boring lifestyle. Her forced engagement. Where the hell was the adventure in life? At 17 her life was already planned out for her.

She again recalled her mother, holding her back long ago when she had asked the same question. Tears had flowed freely from her silvery blue eyes as she had felt ashamed by her father's previous scolding. Her mother had smiled sweetly as she gently rocked the young Bulma.

"Someday you'll know my young Princess." She had told her.

"Perhaps you will find your place where you least expect it.. But you'll know… you'll know." Her soft voice had reassured her daughter. She stroked Bulma's glossy silvery blue hair. It had glistened as it flowed through her fingers like wet diamonds, glistening in the sun.

Bulma sighed coming back to reality. She hurt. In her heart she hurt. It was there. Just like it always was. The cold and empty pit of loneliness that never seemed to heal. And deep down was the wretched feeling of pain. As though she had failed her mother.

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"Now don't forget, Draco. Find the Angel, leave the seal and then bring her to me." The Dark Lord's tauntingly sinister voice echoed through his head. Draco was none other than Vegeta's older brother who's claim to first born had been stolen by Vegeta when he had torn his father's heart from his chest, naming himself the rightful King. Vegeta was stronger than Draco, this he knew, but still Draco's wicked heart longed for the throne and he smiled revealing his white fangs, so much like his brothers.

'I have a plan of my own, Brother.' He sneered to himself.

His comrade, Dodoria, looked nervously at him. Dodoria was a perfect follower of his king. His loyalty was unshakable and that was why he had been chosen by the king himself to under go this mission. He could still recall the Dark Lord's look of disgust as he examined the unhealthy physique and hideous form of his most avid follower. It was well known that Vegeta was an admirer of beauty and this was a blessing that had not graced itself upon Dodoria. Still, he was favored for his strength and unstoppable determination. Also, he was no fool. He knew of Draco's insane jealousy of his brother's crown and tried not to think of the dire consequences it could have on the mission. Battle cries sounded in the distance as a signal to the two warriors. It was time.

They crept silently through the Dark Woods, the barrier between Heaven and Hell. Dodoria held in one hand his sword and in the other, he firmly gripped a letter, stamped with the Dark Lord's blood red insignia. Dodoria did not need to break the seal to know what knowledge his King had stored in the letter. It was a ransom note. Taking the High King's daughter hostage, Lord Vegeta would force the King to surrender his throne giving Vegeta control over half of Heaven. With that sort of power over Heaven and Hell, it would not be long until the darkest rein of all would sweep through the universe. Vegeta demanded a response within a month or dire punishment would be in store for her.

Dodoria swallowed hard, knowing all too well the consequences of failure on his part.

Finally passing through the barrier, they saw in front of them a white tower of unimaginable magnitude. It gave off such immense light that it temporarily blinded the eyes of the Hell warriors. Being from the Dark World, they had never beheld such light. They despised it. As they despised all of Heaven's pure hearted creatures.

Climbing like spiders up the castle wall, they quietly signaled to each other that, as of yet, they had remained unspotted. They pulled themselves up, this being an extra exuberating effort for Dodoria, and infiltrated inside. They glanced in utter disbelief at the sick scenery around them. They would not remain unnoticed for long. Their black wings and clothing clashed horribly with the white tiles and walls surrounding them. Their black eyes burned from the light flowing around them but they so silently crept through the halls that Dodoria subconsciously let out a cry of shock as a white arrow flew past his head, missing by mere centimeters alone. Quickly, Draco unsheathed his sword and gutted the culprit, a palace guard not surprisingly dressed in all white. The two warriors seemed pleased as they watched the blood taint the whiteness of the man's robbed and slither like snakes across the white tiled ground.

Before they acknowledged it, more and more palace guards came streaming out of the white hall ways, swords ready for an all out war. Mercilessly, the warriors slaughtered each of them. Their deaths were not entirely in vein as the demons themselves sustained many a bloody wound from the guards. When the last of the Angels lay fallen, Dodoria and Draco surveyed the damage they had caused. Blood spattered the wall like crimson paint and morbid hand prints had been placed on the white walls and smeared when the palace guards had tried in vein to pull their dying bodies from the slippery floor.

"Well.." began Draco thoughtfully.

"This place was in need of some color anyways."

Dodoria laughed at his comrade's sinister sense of humor in spite of the pain they were feeling. He could be so much like his younger brother at times. The misplaced cracks of humor. 'The beautiful appearance.' He thought bitterly to himself.

Silently, he followed Draco who skillfully darted through the corridors as if he knew exactly where they were going. The puzzling sense of direction threw Dodoria completely for a loop. It would have taken him all day to manage his way without Draco. And by that time he'd have been fighting off the High King himself.

To be quit honest, he had no idea what he was looking for. Vegeta had only remarked that they would know her by her unmatchable beauty.

"Do NOT be weakened by her appearance. She is the enemy. Only one that for the time being must be spared. She will look like nothing you have ever encountered before but do not hesitate to abduct her with force if need be. But know this, if you so much as bend a hair on her head, your lives will pay the price. You have been warned." The Dark King's threats were never empty and Draco knew this, as he had devised his plan around it.

Dodoria again regarded Draco, wishing wholeheartedly for the ability to read minds. Looking away, he surveyed his ridiculous surroundings again. He hated them with an absolute passion. All demons hated light. He was no acception. The pure brightness of it all still stung his sensitive eyes. But alas.. His hatred was more then just skin deep. It went right through to his black heart. A deep seeded loathing.

As Dodoria followed Draco into a large room, he heard a gasp awakening a young woman. She excitedly bolted to her feet and gazed confusedly at them. Her eyes cautiously darted from them to the door, her only means of escape. Still, for the time being, she bravely held her ground.

Now Dodoria understood his master's warning. She was gorgeous. Nothing like the whores in Hell, who hung lazily around the palace in black see-through clothing.

She was draped in a shimmering white gown that, whether or not intentional, hugged every curve on her seductive body. He doubted she even knew how inviting she was with her flawlessly curvy figure and smooth slightly tanned skin. Nothing could compare to her attentive face that was decorated with two, almost clear glassy eyes, small nose, and unfathomably full burgundy lips. Hey long, exotic white hair gleamed silver with power blue streaks as it flowed long down her backless dress.

Dodoria wanted her. He almost lunged for her before remembering his master's harsh warning.

Seeing the lust in both of their eyes, Bulma made a run towards the door. Before she could reach it, a man flew in front of it and it was all she could do to avoid plowing right into him. She was cornered by the demons who smiled wickedly at her with sharp canine fangs. Truth be told, she'd never been this close to a demon. In fact, she'd only seen one once and it was enough to be caught in the cold grip of terror. Oh, she'd seen many paintings of the legendary demons of old but it was nothing like this. One was amazingly grotesque and fat. She was shocked the belt holding his sheathed sword, hadn't simply burst from the seams. The other was gorgeous, tall and lean, with a muscular physique she was sure he'd inherited from a high ranking family gene.

Although sickly attracted to him, she knew she had to get away from them. As far away as possible.

The fear in her eyes betrayed her and they laughed scornfully, a sound that made the pit of her stomach flutter and her muscles tense with anger. She hated that sound. Without a thought, she dove through the window, dashing the glass into a thousand glittering pieces that shattered like rain around her. She fell fast, too fast for her wings to catch the air in time, and smashed through a thin ceiling, landing wretchedly on her side in another white room. Although her eyes delayed horribly, not wishing to see what they knew where there, she forced herself to glance upwards. Looking up, she saw the Demons descending quickly towards her, magnificently crawling down the white stone wall. Desperately, she tried to gain her footing and let out an exasperated wail as the pain in her body nearly abolished all will power. The fall had put her in bad condition and being unable to stand, she felt like a waiting duck. Like the foolish fly that had so confidently flown into the spiders nest and had gotten stuck, waiting in terror as the creature moved torturously slow towards them.

In a last desperate attempt, she ignored her body's infuriated demands, and made a dash for the door opposite the room. Hope swelled in her chest as she extended her hand towards the knob only to collide with a rock hard chest before being knocked unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 4**

"Are you mad!" Dodoria cried watching Draco kneel over the Angel's body after knocking her unconscious. Staring in horror, Dodoria witnesses Draco strategically ripping parts of her gown off. He then began to tear delicate feathers from her shining white wings. He had signed their death warrant.

"I'm not crazy Dodoria. I have a plan of my own." The seemingly insane Demon informed him.

"Unfortunately for you, you play a crucial part in it's design." With that he sent an energy blast that disintegrated Dodoria's body. There was not a shard of flesh left.

Never did he imagine the horror that was felt by the Princess's Fiancée when much later in the night, he would walk into the blood spattered room, only to see shards of his future queen's dress.

Smiling, Draco gently picked up the Princess's limp body, glancing only briefly, in contentment, back at the room, walls covered in a slather of blood with white feathers still floating gracefully in the air.

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Bulma shifted lightly while regaining consciousness. Her head spun as she looked around her, hardly seeing anything. She was in the Black Woods in a decent towards Hell. It didn't take her long to notice the two strong arms wrapped around her body, carrying her through the Barrier. Small flashes of light danced across his facial expressions. His handsome face was smiling. Bulma knew she had to get away from him. Now!

"P..Please… put me down. I feel sick." She said in her softest weak voice. The Demon hesitated and then reluctantly set her roughly on her feet. She feigned sickness, placing her hands on her knees and hunching over. He seemed utterly sickened by her revolting dry heaves and made no attempt to help her. It was then that she threw her infamous bone crunchingly hard kick into every warrior's weakness. He cried out viciously in pain before grabbing his groin and falling hard on his side to the forest floor.

Without a moment's hesitation, she took off running full speed into the blackened forest. She was determined not to go down. At least not without one hell of a fight. She tore her way through the woods. Trees and branches scratched at her, tearing through her body and her gown but still she pressed on never ceasing even though the rush of air burned in her chest.

Suddenly she found herself face first in the dirt after tripping wretchedly on a low vine. She listened in horror at the wicked sounds vastly approaching. Pure terror washed through her. He was already in pursuit.

'How did he recover so quickly' she screamed in her mind. She had once hit Yamcha with the same force rendering him unable to walk properly for a week.

She furiously pushed herself up and took off once again through the pitch black woods. Her eyes were not used to such darkness and she knew she was basically running blindly. She and the Demon in pursuit both knew it was he who had the advantage. He could see much easier in the dark.

She shrieked as his merciless hands gripped her savagely around the waist and then launching her back effortlessly into a tree. Angry at her former deceitful attack he panted in rage, gazing hard into her eyes. He was taken back by the pure venomous hatred that burned in her chrome eyes. He roared out in pain as her sharp nails dug into the side of his face. Overcome by anger, he sent his arm back and with relentless force brought his barbaric nails into her cheek, sending her again to the ground unconscious.

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Bulma regained consciousness slowly. Pain engulfed her entire body after remembering her fight with the demon in the woods. Raising her hand to her face she let out a small shriek at the burning sensation that resulted. Her hand was drenched in blood from touching the three deep tears in her cheek, reminders of the danger she was in. She heard the screams and sobs in the distance coming from all sides of her. The horrific sounds haunted her soul, sending chills up and down her spine. She clutched the man that was carrying her. She knew this was the demon that had kidnapped her, but she also knew that it was too late for an escape and as of now he was her only protection from the monstrosities that lay on either side of her. The dreadful smell of burning flesh awoke her from her dazed state.

Hesitantly, she managed to pry her eyes open. What she saw cannot be described in mere words, though I will try. The world was black and red. It was as though she was being carried through a cracked and barren waste land. A desert smeared by rivers of blood. She blinked as she saw bloodied bodies reaching towards her, the creature's faces painted with signs of pain and anguish. She feared and pitied them at the same time. Some seemed angry at her, as though if they could touch her they would tear her fragile body into monstrous pieces. Others stretched towards her in hope, as though she alone could free them of their eternal bondage. She had heard tales of the unimaginable creatures in Hell that burned in eternal torment only being freed when the former Demon King passes. What scared her the most was the fact that there were so many of them. Each suffering torment because of their untimely deaths at the hand of the Dark Lord. She longed to help them with all of her heart but with a mere glance from Draco, they recoiled like snakes burned. Fires burned in the distance. Bulma could make out similar shapes of bodies. There were so many. All looking at her. She cringed at the sounds of moans and screams from the tortured souls.

"Not exactly what you were planning on waking up to Princess?" Smirked Draco in a deep voice. Bulma glanced at him. Now she saw his face much more clearly then in the forest and again remarked to herself that he was handsome although obviously deadly. In spite of herself, she gripped onto him quivering almost uncontrollably. She held herself tightly against his firm chest.

"Please take me back.. I… I'm so scared." She pleaded in to his throat as he carried her.

"This scares you?" He grunted.

"Wait until you meet my brother, the Demon King. Then you will know the true meaning of fear my Princess."

She looked up at him confused. The King would send his own brother on a mission to kidnap a defenseless girl? Glancing at the deep gashes on either side of his face made from her finger nails, she got a sick feeling of delight.

'Well.. not entirely helpless.' She snickered to herself. Still, she had no idea why she had been kidnapped exactly, much less why it would be so important that the Dark King would send his own flesh and blood to retain her. She figured that it would have something to do with holding her ransom but surely the Dark Lord would not be mislead to believe that her father would make any kind of deal with the Devil in order to rescue her. Looking again at her captor, she noted the firm resolve etched into his stern face and knew that she would no longer have any reason to dishonor herself further. No matter how she pleaded, he would never take her back. She lay back into his arms, trying desperately to avoid thinking about her dire future or her gruesome surroundings to no avail. She could merely stare in awe at the red, fire scorched sky above her. After what seemed an eternity, Draco smiled wickedly.

"We are here. The Black Castle."

Bulma was speechless as she turned her gaze towards the burning black tower before them. A normal fool might have mistaken the monstrous creation as a volcanic mountain because of its awe inspiring size. It seemed to stretch for miles and she could swear the top touched the crimson sky. It even seemed to smoke at the foundation and was the color of the deepest coal. Surrounding it was a moat of lava.. Or so she had thought. Gazing harder at the mysterious liquid, she had to breathe hard to avoid retching all over her own face.

'Bodies… my God.. there are body pieces floating in the moat.' Her own voice screamed in her head.

The circular river of "lava" was none other then a tomb of watery blood. She forced her innocent eyes to look away so infatuated with the morbid sight, she had become. For who of us could deny that at the sight of the dead.. our eyes seemed to be attached.

Now she noticed something stranger. The formerly hot and muggy air had dropped to a near freezing cold the closer they got. She couldn't careless. She buried her face into the leathery material covering Draco's muscular chest. She'd be damned if she looked any longer. Still, she could tell they were getting closer. And as the sound of foot steps on stone touched her ears, she finally chanced a glance at her new surroundings.

The palace was unbelievably dark. The kind of dark that never reached heaven. It was disorientating. Like the feeling of isolation when the lights are off inside of a cave. The sticky cold air felt strangely moist and her teeth chattered at the queer, biting cold. She wondered silently, if she would ever regain her eyesight in this haunted place.

She could now sense that they were descending up a flight of stairs. Silently and very privately, she thanked her eyes for their apparent failure. In truth, she was petrified at what may lie in the dark corridors around them. Never in her life had she been exposed to such gruesome surroundings and her eyes begged for no more.

"What is that?" demanded an evil voice. The suddenness of the voice caused Bulma to nearly jump from Draco's arms and run blindly for sanctuary. But the powerful Demon held her firmly and yet strangely gently.

"The King's cargo." Replied Draco sarcastically. Bulma noted to herself that she firmly disliked being imagined as "cargo" but then again… would she really voice such an opinion? She thought not.

"Open the door Radditz!" shouted Draco.

Bulma cowered in his strong arms. She knew for whatever reason that she hadn't heard the last of that name.

"Whatever you say Draco." Radditz sneered. He resented being ordered by a soldier of the same caliber as himself but then, seeing what shape the "cargo" was in, he allowed it to slide. Draco had far worse things then him to worry about.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

The room was freezing cold and Bulma clutched Draco even tighter still. She knew this was utter foolishness since he was a heartless killer himself, but she sensed that there was something in that room much more evil than him.. Not to mention more powerful.

Suddenly, Draco did something that Bulma had never anticipated him to do. Placing her impressively gently on her feet, he bowed low. A cold shiver ran through her noticeably quivering body as she realized what this gesture must mean.

Slowly but surely, her eyes began to behold a figure standing tall in the corner where the darkness shadowed him and the ever increasing cold seemed to flow. Her knees nearly bucked beneath her as she figured out who he was. She was beholding the living legend that not one Angel had ever placed eyes upon and lived to tell the tale. She could not even convince herself of it. She just knew.

"Bow!" Ordered Draco, obviously disturbed that she had not already thought to do so. Whether it was from being so panic stricken with fear or simply arrogance and pride that kept her from bowing, I'll never know. Probably a sad combination of both I imagine. But for whatever reason, she remained in up right position, a look of firm defiance planted on her abused face.

"I said bow!" Fumed Draco. It was all he could do to harness his short temper from tearing her stubborn body to bleeding shreds right in front of his brother.

"Now now brother." Whispered a sinister voice. It stopped Bulma's heart. No.. I mean it. Her heart literally skipped a beat at the low tone. It was harsh and raspy. A thick accent lacing every simple word. But above all, it was flowing with sheer masculinity.

"There's no need to shout." He continued tauntingly.

"Besides.. last time I checked, it was I who was giving the orders around here."

Bulma gasped as the figure emerged from the shadows, revealing himself in the dim light. He was beautiful.. My God. Absolutely beautiful. Like a painting. Flawless like a Greek God. Dark and wicked obviously, but attractive to the extremities Bulma had never before encountered.

She fought hard with herself not to blush as his fierce eyes examined her. She refused her eye's proposition to stare at his muscular body, carved like a statue and covered by black leather. She had, for whatever reason, expected him to be old. Well, maybe not old, old. But certainly older than the man that stood before her. He looked as if he was possibly pushing late twenties.

His thick black wings enveloped them as he stepped dangerously near to her. They loomed around her tauntingly, almost (dare I say) in a sexually flirtatious manner. She dared her eyes to gaze up at his. A mistake. She shook horrendously at the cold, unimaginably endless black abysses tearing through her soul. He moved closer to her, plainly having no use for personal boundaries. His face was barely an inch from her's, exposing more of his unearthly handsome qualities. His dark eyes seemed to burn through her. Searching her. For what?

Suddenly the room became hot. Still facing his eyes unmovable, the Princess silenced a cry that tried to rip it's way out of her. To her horror, the blood vessels in his eyes began to cluster around his pupil, creating a monstrous effect. The iris's turned a deep red. He looked very much like the demon he was. As he bared his sharp teeth, Bulma shuttered subconsciously. It was him. The creature who had murdered her mother.

'No.' she told her self.

'It's his son… It's only his son.'

She was feverously awakened from her acknowledgements as Vegeta turned viciously toward Draco. The Princess screamed as blood spattered onto her face and dress. Lying on the ground was Draco, his left cheek in bloody shards of molden flesh. Still he looked defiant.

"I believe I told you she was not to be harmed!" Vegeta spat out furiously, his tone much different then his previous. Bulma was deeply confused as to why her condition would matter to a wicked creature like Vegeta. Her thoughts were pushed aside as he violently grabbed her face, forcefully cocking it from side to side, roughly examining her. His sharp nails grazed across her three deep tears, almost sending tears out of her eyes. She ground her teeth together, both from the pain and the utter humiliation she was suffering.

"Where is Dodoria?" He thundered. Calmly, Draco cleared his throat, still clutching what remained of his shattered face.

"It was Dodoria who attacked her. He desired her my Lord. He knocked her unconscious and tried to force himself upon her. I had no choice but to dispose of him myself."

Bulma scoffed at his sad attempt to persuade the King to believe he had nothing to do with it. Her stinging cheek bore witness to his savage treatment and at any other moment she would have called him on it. Still, the angel felt sorry for the demon crouching on the floor beneath his own monstrous brother. Vegeta's possessed eyes turned to her, nearly sending her into hysterics.

"Please don't hurt me." She whispered chancing a look towards Draco. Vegeta smiled, if you could call it that.

"You have no reason to believe I would harm you Angel. And neither does Draco if what he says is true." He waited patiently for her answer, his sharp gaze never leaving her. She glanced down at Draco, knowing that her answer would mean the difference between his life or death.

"He.. He's telling the truth." She sighed. "He never touched me."

She looked dejectedly down at her blood spattered dress as he released her face.

Draco was beyond belief. He had been careless with his treatment of her and had expected to be killed. But now his arch enemy, an angel was defending him. Lying to save his life to the Dark King, of who she was so obviously deathly afraid of. It was a strange feeling. He thought to himself. Perhaps when the rebellion was finished and Vegeta lay dead, he would claim her. She was fiery and brave beyond logic. And beauty was so obviously not an object as she was by far the most exotic creature he'd ever beheld. Even if she didn't accept him, he was destined to have her. God knew rejection had never been a problem before. He could tame a stubborn creature. He could break her if need be. She was so beautiful.

Even his cold hearted brother had noticed this and Draco had sensed that he was a bit taken back by it. For obvious reasons, Draco's hatred for his brother had swelled enormously by his brother's reaction to her. Perhaps it was a simply twinge of the eye brow.. a sparkle in his dead eyes. But for whatever reason it was there. Even in the tone of voice Vegeta had used. It was soft instead of his usual intimidating growl.

Seething with anger, Draco managed to get to his feet, still clutching his face. Vegeta saw it as an act of defiance and standing inches from Draco's face, ordered him to leave.

Alright folks.. There you have it. The fourth chapter to my epic tale. I hope by now you believe my suggestion that you would be hooked by the first few chapters. I plan on having at least two chapters out each day. The reason is simply this. The longer I wait for a story to be updated, the less interested I become. Not to mention the fact that you forget most of the details and occasionally get the story confused with another you had been reading in it's absence. So enough babbling..(since I despise when other authors do it) oh and at the beginning of each chapter.. don't expect me to do the usual "sorry it took so long to update but I was busy with- blah blah blah" Like I said, I plan on keeping this baby going each day. So if something happens to deter the progress, it's most likely incredibly important or has something to do with not working. Also..(sorry this is getting long but I believe most of this is a need-to-know basis)

As regards to reviews.. I plan on emailing back everyone who is cool enough to review. Plus, I'll thank you in the end and tell others just how awesome you are. Sound like bribery? Good.. cause that's exactly what it is. And if there are any universal questions to be answered.. I hope no one minds if I answer them at the end of each chapter as I'm doing now. That's all for now. Until next time, I love each of you for reading even this far. It's people like you that keep this world running. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 5**

Alone with the Princess, Vegeta was free to examine her closely. As he circled her, he noticed the way she shivered underneath his gaze. He admired her courage. She so noticeably tried to hide her fear, coating her stance with stern defiance. She even looked him straight in the eye, a feat few demons warriors could accomplish. Her wounds, so obviously made by Draco, no doubt pained her deeply.

As if she herself had suddenly become aware of this, she collapsed onto her knees on the stone cold ground. She coward on the floor, glaring up at him, fuming in unexpressed rage. She even bared her teeth at him, grinding the shiny pearls together in hatred at her ultimate humility. He was her enemy. And she his. The two simply stared at each other, neither making a move.

Simply beholding such a monster made her anger bubble forth. But then again, it was held at bay by her superb fear of him. He could tear her to pieces before she was even aware he had touched her. She was nothing more to him then another useless life to snuff out of existence. And if need ever arose, he wouldn't hesitate. They both knew this.

Vegeta crouched down in front of her, so silently she hadn't even noticed him move until she was faced with the dead black eyes in front of her's. It was obvious he got some kind of sick thrill out of seeing her in mortal fear of him.

Still, he gazed into her crystal blue eyes, admiring their likeness to that of a rare diamond. She was exuisite. Like an ancient sculpture of the pagan Goddess Aphrodite, she was beautiful to the fullest extremes. So different, she was, from the women he had encountered all his life. It was strange… she almost seemed to radiate light. A light that most demons hated but that had fascinated him his entire life. For all of his characteristics, Vegeta wore the cape of curiosity most frequently.

Which of us could say that we've never sat awake at night and wondered what it was that existed outside of this earth? Who of us would admit that the forbidden wasn't, in itself, a blind temptation for our ever manipulative curiosity? And so it was with Vegeta. Living in a dark realm, he'd often wondered what heaven would look like, though he had never been afforded the opportunity to rival in his wonder. The idea still plagued him like a disease, constantly reminding him of his insolence in the matter. He'd never seen heaven.

Bulma felt close to tears. She was frightened and hurt, kneeling like a whimpering child on the cold floor. Being incessantly examined by a murderous animal. His unwavering stare was making her increasingly uncomfortable. No one had ever looked at her like that. They dare not. It was almost hauntingly seductive, a look only afforded to her future husband. He used it often when trying to persuade her surrender her innocents to him. An act she had never done, nor will ever do until she was ready. Only the demon's gaze was much more intense, as if he wanted more then just her body. As if she held the key to heaven and he was trying to reach it. Her swollen lips quivered in fear before she could bite down.

He had noticed. Slowly, the demon raised his hand to gently touch her face, his thumb brushing along her bottom lip. It amazed her. The touch was both hot and cold at the same time. Mildly but it was there, like nothing she had ever before experienced. He seemed to be calming her as his fingers grazed her torn cheek in concern. It was simply stunning that such a wicked creature, capable of such monstrocities that we will never know, could touch a wound so tenderly.

Still, she felt humiliated by her fear and frustrated that she could not vent the anger that burned inside. A single tear escaped her blurry eyes, sliding down her soft cheek.

The King looked confused as to what was happening. What was this strange reaction she was having? Why the liquid cascading down her cheek?

'He's never seen tears before' she thought to herself. It was sad in a morbid way. She wondered if demon's even could cry and release the hurtful sensations that weld up inside. He stared at it several moments, observing it as a child would a dangerous insect.

Hesistantly, he touched it and as he did it fell to the ground and shattered frozen. Bulma's breath faltered immediately and came in quick horrendous gasps. He was a monster. As if to calm her, he touched her face, again examining her wounds. Still, his touch was a bit too hot, reminding her of the dangers that lurked behind his mask of seeming concern.

"Why did you lie for Draco?" he asked suddenly. The finality of those words left her speechless. He knew she had lied. He knew and now her own life hung on her immediate reply. She bit painfully into her quivering lip to silence the tears begging to be set free.

"I.." she began. How many memories one experiences right before they die. Her honor. Her pride.. Rubbish in the long run. She would die with neither. Only a sacrifice for a killer.

"I didn't want you to kill him." She answered meeting his gaze. The sensation of truthfulness in her words seemed to calm him.

"Why?" he cocked his head to the side.

"Surely you must know he would not do the same for you." He said the words in a harsh scornful voice. How could she answer? I mean, how exactly would you explain the concept of mercy to a creature who had never been or had shown it? How could she justify her actions to a demon who probably didn't even know what the word meant?

Seeing her obvious struggle for words, he stood up, towering over her shaking form.

"You are weak." He informed her in a contemptible voice.

"You will soon learn that such actions can mean your demise and lying to me ensures it." He pointed a sharp finger nail at her in an intimidating motion.

"Steer clear of both and I may actually allow you to live." He said the words as if her life lay in the palm of his hand. Actually if you want to be critical.. it actually did. Before thinking, Bulma asked him a question that she immediately regretted.

"What's your name?" I think both were stunned by her boldness. To ask the Demon King anything, let alone such a meager question was pure insolence. He seemed to stiffen while pondering whether or not to even reward such a moronic question and answer.

"Vegeta." He answered simply.

Gently, he bent down and picked her up, softly cradling her in his powerful arms. Bulma remarked to herself that she'd never been carried so many times in her life as she had in this day. Even more silently, she told herself that Vegeta carried her much more pleasantly than his wretched brother, gliding through corridors and stairways as if he were flying. A few times she could have sworn she'd seen moving shadows and heard closing doors, but nothing for sure claiming there were other inhabitants in this morbid sanctuary for evil.

Carrying her swiftly up a long flight of stairs the scenery changed dramatically. The cold stone floor was replaced by shiny black marble. Vulgar paintings lined the walls, most making her blush and turn away. She remarked only silently how protected from such artwork she had been all of her life. Though gracefully stunning, the murals portrayed acts in which she knew were forbidden, at least out side of marriage.

All the while she was avoiding looking too long at the paintings, Vegeta was in complete obliviousness. What did it matter to her what his name was? All she needed to know was how to avoid displeasing him. Still, in all honesty he was not angry with her. Simply intrigued by her purity and innocence. Such a strange creature was this angel.

As they entered the room, Bulma gasped. It was huge. Entirely black and red. It was decorated for royalty and every shutter was laced with black lining. The windows were draped with thick crushed velvet and, much to her dismay, expensive paintings of naked woman decorated each wall. In the far corner was a bed that could only be imagined in a virgin's wildest dreams. A monstrous canopy bed, covered in red velvet and sheer material. The bed post featured carvings of gargoyles and other demon legends. It called to her as much as it frightened her. She remarked to herself that despite the obvious morbidness it held, it was by far the most exquisite room she'd ever seen.

"Well, what did you expect Princess." Vegeta grunted.

"A dungeon? We're not that barbaric." He nearly chuckled. Somehow she didn't believe him but decided not to voice such an opinion as he moved away the velvet and sheer red material, lying her on the black comforter. He could have laughed at how her light hair and dress clashed with the black material but decided that the situation was far too tense for her as it was.

"Why am I here?" she demanded. Her tone almost set his temper off. Apparently her thankfulness for him not disintegrating her to bones was absent.

"Why did you kidnap me!"

The Demon King was simply stunned. No one, I mean no one ever talked to him in such a way. How had he not seen this side of her? She was so bossy and domineering, which, truth be told, only seemed to intrigue his ever present curiosity further. He stood over her studying the flames burning in her chrome eyes before he chose to honor her with an answer.

"You are here," he began, "as a hostage. I had one of my warriors, sent to obtain you, leave a message for your father. He will surrender his kingdom.. in return for you."

Bulma laughed. By God she actually laughed.. a scornful sound which sent anger penetrating every part of his body.

"You're crazy if you believe my father would ever make a trade with the likes of you!" she spat reproachfully. Vegeta continued to struggle to remain calm.

"Do not be so hasty, my angel. I am fully aware of the weaknesses of angels. Your ever present consciences, your over board emotions. Your father cares for you deeply Princess… That will be his downfall." Vegeta smirked in confidence.

"And My kind are fully aware of the treachery of your kind. Most of all my father. He would never surrender West Heaven to the likes of you. Even if it came with a price." She sneered.

"It is a small price to pay in order to prevent you from causing the deaths of countless angels." She finished.

"You are wrong!" He countered angrily.

"You are everything to him. His care for you makes him the weakling that he is. I dare say the poor old fool even loves you." He said the word as though it were a detestable thing.

"Of course he loves me!" she screamed sitting up in bed. She'd be damned if she let him intimidate her on this.

"Not that I would expect a heartless, brainless animal like you to understand what love is!"

Too late to take it back, Bulma screamed as Vegeta's anger and the temperature in the room, skyrocketed. He viciously pinned her down onto the bed, his sharp black nails digging into her wrists. Blood began to spurt from where his fingernails were imbedded into the soft flesh. He was seething with rage and his eyes were a deep blood red.

The pain.. The fear. Bulma's face never admitted either although at the moment they were all she could decipher in her pool of emotions. His hard body pressed tightly into hers, his hot breath burning into her neck where his face lay whispering words in a sinister tone that frightened her all the more so.

"Not so fast my angel." He whispered.

"I know what love is. At this very moment.. I would love to kill you." Her blood ran cold. Still, she would never allow her fear to show through. Never allow him to win.

"You can't kill me Vegeta. You need me alive." She whispered to the ceiling.

The demon turned to face her, his possessed eyes burning with sheer intensity. Suddenly, he kissed her. A hard vicious kiss cutting her lips with his teeth. Never had she experienced something so animal. He pushed harder slicing her tongue and inner mouth. She was horrified. Her mouth began to gush blood which only seemed to excite him more. Harder and harder he worked, drawing the blood out of her mouth into his own and tearing her lips more and more. Finally, he pulled away with a gasp of delight, her blood leaking from his mouth. Panting hard, he glared at her with an evil smirk.

"You'd be surprised what you can live though my angel."


	6. Chapter 6

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 6**

It had been two weeks since her abduction and still not a word. Her father should have at least responded by then, she thought grimly, sifting through her newly acquired ward rob. Vegeta, heartless creature that he was, had insisted on providing her with more than the necessities. He had given her countless gowns for her immensely growing closet and insisted she look presentable. She could not imagine why. It wasn't like anyone but him and her also newly acquired body guard, Radditz, ever saw her.

The demon's were a barbaric group. Late night parties and unimaginable traditions were their daily routine. She couldn't quite figure what it was she had imagined them to be but it certainly wasn't the drug addicted spawn of creation she was witnessing. Even the "invincible" Demon King himself, had many a night been unable to recognize her for reasons unbeknownst to her.

Every day she remembered the kiss. If indeed, you could call it that. It had been a whirl wind of emotion. Fear, pain, and yes.. Even pleasure. A kind of sick, demented pleasure that she could neither understand nor deny.

She had seen him every day since her kidnapping, occasionally for almost an hour. Sad to say, he and Radditz were her limited and only social life. Radditz hardly ever spoke, although when he did, he was far more courteous then Vegeta. Radditz would merely sit and observe her from a corner in her room, in which she had supposed he'd been banished until the end of her stay. Occasionally though, she would catch him out of the corner of her eyes, smiling at her strange angelic ways. In truth, and though I doubt she would ever admit it if you asked her, she believed he liked her.. or I guess I should say tolerated her.

It was more than she could say for her barbaric servant women. Stomping around her with hideous scowls entrenched on their manly faces, they never spoke. Not even to answer a question, which Bulma considered silently, was simply common courtesy. She could tell that they despised her. She was their enemy. They glared at her light skin and hair, a complete contrast with their own.

Finally, she would have it no more and decided to out right ask Radditz. He chuckled softly, a sound she adored simply because of it's fine rarity in such a place.

"Jealousy." He remarked simply in a way all his own. She could only reply in confusion and he sighed, realizing she had obviously missed the underlying meaning.

"The King shows you far more attention than any of them. Than anyone at all in Hell. They believe you have cast a spell on him."

"Preposterous!" she seethed.

"I don't know the first thing about spells and I certainly wouldn't know one that could control Vegeta."

Radditz always flinched when she used his master's name. He often scorned her for such blatant disrespect and yet it further disturbed him that the King hardly seemed to mind. This time though, he let the name slide.

"Well.. spell or not, you have certainly bewitched me Princess." He rivaled in her blush but choose to continue.

"I am not the only one. All the males who have seen you are awe stricken Angel. This is the source of their jealousy." He told her truthfully. She admired his blunt answers and painful honesty. She flushed at his comments, turning away. He certainly was confident and had the looks to back it up. And, although he seemed oblivious, she had noticed the lustful looks he had gotten from the servant women. He had a boyishly handsome face and bright eyes, so much like her old friend Goku in Heaven. Another acquaintance she missed dearly.

She could not even force herself to flirt back. She was too occupied with thoughts of Yamcha. Unbelievable how much you can miss a person you never imagined you would. But that simply wasn't true. She had known the Prince all her life and cared deeply for him in a way more superior then petty friendship. She missed him and thought of him everyday as she stared off into the surrounding nation of blood. She knew as soon as she was surrendered she would marry him. She openly pushed away the ever present thought that there was a good chance she'd never even see him again. Negative thoughts were detrimental in such a condition that she was in. All she would allow herself to ponder over was him and how much she loved him.

Her and Vegeta's talks were always converted into arguments. It was like clock work. He would show false interest at first and than make some snide remark about her or her upbringing causing her to insult him and his barbaric kingdom and before you know it, he would storm out of the room. One time he had savagely thrown her onto the bed as a result of a misplaced insult. It hadn't hurt and Bulma found it suprising that for all his savage ways, Vegeta mainly avoided ever hurting her.

Today things were tense. She had felt Vegeta's frustration when he had walked into the room. Knowing she was walking on thin ice, she decided to tread softly today. She wanted to avoid an unfriendly episode today. She just wasn't in a feisty enough mood.

He sat at the end of her bed, tapping his foot viciously on the floor, his black combat boots making a sharp clicking on the expensive marble beneath. The temperature in the room was unpleasantly hot and she was sure that the angry demon had not even noticed. Silently, she resolved to calm him down before virtually being melted.

"What's wrong Vegeta?" she asked in a voice so sweet it could have sent Saddam Hussein to his knees. He eyed her cautiously, uncertain as to where this apparent concern was heading. He buried his face in his hands exasperated. He'd never understand this creature. But her face betrayed no hint of deceit and the thought calmed him, the temperature in the room becoming more and more acceptable. Funny how he hadn't even noticed how hot it had been. Massaging his temples in frustration, he looked at the floor.

"Another outbreak. Fifteen of my strongest men where slaughtered by a demon mob." He sighed.

She remarked quietly to herself that this was by far the least dangerous she'd ever seen him. And even more privately, perhaps even privately from herself, she had begun caring mildly about him. And she knew how much it upset him to see his kingdom in such turmoil. She should have guessed in the first place that that was what was bothering him. The outbreaks were becoming more and more frequent and she wondered if perhaps her staying in the castle wasn't partly to blame. The heartless creatures that inhabited this last were in a firm resolve to take action against the throne if their demands for power were not met and Vegeta was at his wits end on how to keep them at bay.

Obviously not asking aloud, Bulma silently wondered if Vegeta's stressful condition regarding his kingdom wasn't out of pride and blind arrogance. She knew that he had killed his father, he made no attempt to conceal such information, forbidden though it was. But she figured that perhaps this goal of striving to be the strongest was a direct attempt to be a better king than his father was. Maybe even to prove to his father that he was worthy of his title. Much more so then his brother Draco.

"It is of no real concern." He straightened up.

"Once I own heaven, there will be no reason for rebellion." Bulma shrugged noticeably unconvinced.

"It seems like people always have a reason for rebellion." She pointed. "Even in heaven we have two sided opinions and an occasional outbreak." Vegeta raised an eyebrow in slight disbelief.

"Really?" He asked. It wasn't a question he was used to asking but her information had simply startled him. She giggled a little, releasing all the tension that had been mounding in the air. Moving closer to him, she continued.

"Well none that actually get around." She winked. The gesture pleased him.

"My father makes sure that such disputes are settled quickly and quietly so that heaven remains the peaceful kingdom it has always been with reputation in tact. But being the Princess, sure I've seen lots of crazy things happen over moronic incidences."

"Like what?" he asked. She hadn't really expected him to be interested and the idea simply thrilled her.

"Well," she began, "I mean there are some angels who believe that all demons are evil and that they should be hunted down like animals and be slaughtered just for what they were. And then there are.. people like me." She wasn't sure if she should have put that part in there but it had obviously raised further interest.

"Oh? And what do people like you believe?" he asked in his trademark deep accented voice. The raspiness of it sent chills up her spine. His gaze didn't exactly help as she always seemed to interpret it as more than what it was, a sad side affect of being beautiful and desired her entire life. She did notice that his gaze no longer made her so uncomfortable. She smiled slightly before arranging her words. She didn't want to accidentally insult him with a quick and faulty tongue.

"I believe.. well.." she stammered, unsure of an answer that wouldn't make her look like a moron in front of him. For whatever reason, though I'm sure you and I know, his opinion of her mattered greatly.

"Well you see.." she began, "when I was a little girl, my mother always told me that every being had a soul." Her only reaction was a raised eyebrow so she continued.

"That soul is capable of so many things and emotions. A soul can feel fear, hatred, hurt and even love."

"Ridiculous." Grunted Vegeta, but his open interested had not dwindled. Some how Bulma wasn't surprised by his comment. It was so like him to insult anything he didn't know first hand and especially something he, God forbid, didn't understand. Still, she remained calm simply dismissing the verbal intrusion with a curt wave of the hand.

"Well, ever since then, I've always agreed with her. I believe everyone has a soul." Vegeta remained in quiet resolve for a moment before looking her straight in the eye.

"I don't." he said the words with such finality that it was as if he had already forsaken such an idea.

"If you want to believe that you don't, then go ahead Vegeta." She stated firmly as if she were talking to a misguided teen.

"If believing you were damned from birth helps you to kill more easily and cleans your conscience every night then be my guest. But I don't believe you." Between us.. and keep this little tid bit to your self. I don't actually think Bulma even believed what she was telling him. I think even she thought of him as a heartless lost cause at the time. But perhaps I shouldn't skip to conclusions.

"I believe that everyone has a soul. Whether or not they choose to abide by what it tells them or dismiss it, is up to them. But I believe that not all demons are monsters and that mercy can and should be shown when needed. I guess.. I guess I just choose to give everyone the benefit of the doubt." She ended looking down. She half expected him to throw her across the room and begin his trademark ranting and raving but he remained in his place. Not even scornful laughter escaped his solitude as he took in what she said.

"And where is your mother now?" he asked. That was the problem with Vegeta.. She couldn't tell if his façade of concern was genuine or if he was merely setting a trap for her. Either way, she was at a loss for words. How exactly would you inform someone that you'd witnessed their father murdering your mother? It's not exactly much of a conversation starter. One way or another, Bulma knew she couldn't and most certainly wouldn't tell him that. She was sure it would only cause a fight and talking about her mother had already made her feel vulnerable. A fight was not something she could afford at the moment.

"She.. " she took in a deep breath, "she died. She got sick." She let a tear slide down her cheek. She didn't even fight it in order to appear strong infront of him. Between us.. it was the only time she refused to show emotion.. she cried a lot when she was alone.

She felt disgusted with her self. She had dishonored her mother's death with a sick, blatant lie. Looking up at Vegeta he looked as though he where either pissed off or hurt. She should've been able to decipher the two, seens how the latter had never been displayed before but in all honesty, she simply couldn't. Such a mystery this stone cold creature was. But something told her he knew of her deceitfulness but he made no direct reply about it, simply shaking his head at her and standing up. Giving her a displeased look, he abruptly stomped out of the tense room, leaving a flustered Bulma behind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 7**

As the third week came to a close, Bulma had all but given up hope. She roamed the castle hall ways bravely, fearing not the hatred that no doubt would face her. She was oblivious to the fact that some of her servant woman had begun to like her. Their friendly teasing of her light hair and skin was observed as further dislike. A time or two they had even found humor in remarking that their King had been showing apparent affection towards her. Bulma had laughed. If ignoring and more than occasionally blowing up at her, was Vegeta's way of showing affection, they were crazy to envy her. Not to mention foolish for even suggesting such a preposterous notion. She knew as well as anyone that Vegeta despised her. He loathed her very essence as she did his.

He was the cause of her abrupt demolition of life. And she hated him for it. Every day, every minute, every second she was away from Yamcha her deep seeded hatred for Vegeta grew. He was her tormentor and the frustrating fact was that she could do nothing to rectify the situation. She wished she could keep track of every single second he had done her wrong and make him pay dearly for each one.

Those were the thoughts that disturbed her the most. Never, in her entire life had she ever wanted a being to suffer. Not to say that she hadn't wished repeatedly for the demise of her mother's killer but to actually long for the torture of another, was superbly sickening to her conscience. Just another reason to despise the demon. She was becoming more and more like him every day. She wondered if Hell did that to a person, Angel or not. Did the lack of lighting make such a bitter person? Was it the taste or smell? Was it the entire atmosphere as a whole? She doubted she'd ever really know the answer. All she could decipher was this supreme bit of information. With every breath she took, she wished for freedom. With every moments passing, she longed for his death. And the worse part was.. she couldn't be satisfied unless it was by her own hand.

And such ideas made her want to die. What use was it being an Angel of God if your heart was as black as a demon's. And the thought that hurt the most, the one she pushed away from her mind most often, the one she blamed most of Vegeta, was the fact that no one had replied. Her father had not sent a word. Nothing. And Yamcha, he had not sent for her. She had expected to be valiantly rescued from her prison all along.. but as the weeks went by her small candle of hope began to flicker.. began to die. And she began to wonder if life was really worth living, if the ones you loved with all of your heart did not return such a blessing.

She was pondering on such dark thoughts when the young boy scampered into her room. He had obviously not even noticed she was present as he buried his face in his hands sobbing. His small black wings shook up and down with the force and her heart nearly broke when she realized the truthfulness as to why he had come into her room in the first place. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him cry. She cursed such a barbaric land for it's selfishness towards children. What kind of life this child must have known. She suddenly felt almost ignorant, realizing that in this child's short life, he had witnessed more grotesque apparitions than she had in her entire 17 years. I say entire, simply because the child sobbing could not have been past the age of 6. In comparison, the two differ greatly.

Moving slowly and quietly, she made her way over to him, surprised that his superior hearing hadn't caught the commotion her dress made. She was no more than a foot from him when she tenderly stretched out her hand and brushed his cheek. Startled, he stared wide eyed at her.

"Shh.. don't be afraid." She cooed to him. He didn't seem convinced.

"My name's Bulma..and I promise I won't hurt you." He gazed up into her eyes, his own suspicious and untrusting in a manner only a child could pull off.

"Are you.. are you an angel?" he asked in a young raspy voice. She was mildly surprised he had even had to ask something so obvious. But then she had to scold herself. He was only about 6 years old.. not doubt far too young to have ever made the journey to heaven. All he knew of her was a mystery.

"Yes.." she replied softly, bending down to make him feel less intimidated.

"I've never seen an angel before. My daddy said you were evil and deceitful creatures." He scowled. She felt incredibly hurt by his painful bluntness and the expressions showed.

"He said you were hideous, disgusting monsters." She couldn't imagine why he was continuing. But part of her wanted to be convinced that he was simply trying to tell himself that. A small smile lit up his face and it seemed to Bulma that he had completely transformed.

"You don't look so bad to me." He stated beaming up at her. She rewarded him with a chuckle.

"Well, my father told me that all demon children were ticklish. But I'd rather find out for myself." She teased before gently attacking his sides. At first he tensed, as if such a gesture were completely foreign to him, but then reaction replaced unfamiliar and he giggled immensely nearly falling on the floor. Releasing him she led him over to a chair.

"What's your name little warrior?" she asked in that polite way that all grown ups address young children in. He fidgeted slightly underneath her unfamiliar gaze. Eyes that blue were completely none existent in the world he had come to know.

"My name's Gohan.. And I'm not a warrior.. Not yet anyways." He looked down as if such a statement was the ultimate shame. Bulma guessed as much that it was in such a barbaric culture. He looked up at her again in that same bright way that sent warm waves into her heart.

"Daddy says that if I train hard enough I can make my first kill within a year." The statement murdered all of the warm waves and replaced them with cold chills and a dead feeling in her stomach. She couldn't really imagine why she should be surprised. Vegeta had confided in her, if you could call blatant bragging by such a word, that he had slaughtered one of "her kind" when he was only a mere four years of age.

"_It is an unimaginable honor to make your first kill," _he had explained. "_It is your first step of progress to manhood. To hunt alone and never return until totting the head of the enemy." _

All her opinions of such a savage lifestyle were thrown to the way side by the tears forming in Gohan's round eyes. Before she could calm him, he had buried his eyes into his palms sobbing the word "Torro" several times.

"What is Torro?" she asked gently pulling him into her lap, a gesture he had hesitantly taken. She was sure he hadn't been embraced very often by the way his muscles spasmed at her touch. Still she held him firmly on her lap, pressed against her bosom as his tears flowed freely down his cheeks, a rare outbreak she was sure he had never before rewarded himself.

"Torro was my.. my father." He sniffed, looking through blurry eyes.

"He was one of the 15 slain in the outbreak. And now.. now he will never see me become the man he wanted me to be." More tears spilled down his puffy flesh though it had become evident he was trying to dissuade them.

"How do you know he will never see you again?" she asked him reassuredly. He seemed to frown in disappointment at her comment.

"Because.. I told you.. he's dead." Bulma was simply stumped. All her life she had been raised to believe that when a person is slain, they progress into an even grander kind of heaven. She should have guessed that such a belief was insolent in such a dismal place. She couldn't even award him an answer, only a shrug of apology and a shoulder to cry upon when further tears escaped.

That was how Vegeta found her when entering her articulate room. She sat in a chair rocking a young child in her arms. He immediately recognized the boy as one of the recently orphaned children he'd had the displeasure of informing of their father's death. Cold hearted as he admittedly was, the task was simply an unpleasant one. This child's session was no exception and he remembered quit clearly the grief stricken look that had quickly been over shadowed by a firm resolve to never show emotion. The kind of façade he had learned from an age unremembered. Never show the pain. Never show the hurt. Especially when they came from inside. The idea made him sick. But tradition was tradition and truth be told.. emotions made one weak.

He noticed the deep scowl on Bulma's face that immediately sent chills of pleasure running marathons up and down his spine. He loved when she was in feisty moods. It invigorated him to no end to verbally spare with her to the point when the anger set in and blessed her bright eyes with flames of rage.

"Finished torturing some God-forsaken soul in the dungeon?" She remarked slyly not even facing his direction. He grunted wishing he could have had the element of surprise on his behalf. She must have sensed his aura from the change in temperature.

"Apparently your father does not love you as much as I had believed him to. He has yet to answer my message." He stated coldly. He had no idea how deeply his words cut and Bulma was not about to allow him the satisfaction of knowing. But the truth was.. he had hit a mortally sore spot and the consequences were dire.

"He loves me enough." She stated in a dead monotone. The kind of monotone where you know a bombardment of words is just seeping from the seams to get out. But she remained silent, though he knew she longed to say much more. Apparently, he hadn't caught on to her sad attempt of a front. He was disappointed by her ignorance of him and scowled openly down at the whimpering child, still cradled pathetically in her arms.

"Stop pampering him, woman. It will make him weak." He ordered, glaring at the young boy sulking further into her chest frightened. Bulma sat the child onto his feet, allowing him to scamper out of the room before turning an icy cold gaze upon the demon.

"Why?" she demanded in a glacieritic tone.

"Are you afraid he may develop a heart Vegeta? Are you so afraid he wont be exactly like you?" She was certainly on fire today, he remarked silently to himself. Honestly though, she had managed to anger him as well as stun him with her bravery.

"What good is a heart Angel? Hmm? Having a heart certainly did not save you… look around you Princess." He nearly shouted, his short threads of a temper being snipped one by one.

"Your not in la la land anymore. Your in Hell. And no one is here to save you.. So explain to me where having a heart comes in to play a part in your being set free?" He demanded, his face close to her's. She couldn't even fathom an answer.

"Having a "heart" did not get me where I am today. I am the King of all Demons Princess. I own everything you set your eyes upon. And I am because I was raised to be. I was taught to be strong. I was taught to be the best. And in no where was I taught to have a heart!" His thunderous voice shook the walls but she refused to even reward his out break with a flinch. Rather, between us, I don't even think she noticed so caught up in anger as she was. Her teeth clinched in suppressed rage and she held her hands in tight white fists.

"Yeah.. look where you are today." She seethed sarcastically.

"Oh your really happy alright! HA! I apparently don't see you the way you see your self Oh High and mighty God of Evil. I don't see some powerful almighty King. I see a SELFISH, ARROGANT, POMPIS MONSTER!" She screamed every word as if it was a sentence all it's own. Vegeta's eyes shrunk into tiny piercing slits.

"Some day you will wake up and realize that no matter how many battles you win. No matter how many kingdoms you conquer or women you seduce, you will always be alone." Vegeta fought hard against his rebellious hand that longed to plunge itself into her chest and rip her precious organ from her body while holding it infront of her face.

"ALONE Vegeta. You will always be alone." She nearly sobbed the words, realizing in dead truth that she could apply them to herself. Alone. She had always been it and now was finally acknowledging it. She didn't want to live like that anymore. The question was.. could she live at all anymore.

The temperature in the room had sky rocketed to enormously dangerous levels and it became clear by the pulsing blood in Vegeta's eyes, that he was fighting an inward battle over whether or not to slaughter her where she stood. So here was the breaking point of her life. The decision she knew all her life she would have to make. Did she want it? Did she want to live?...

"Go ahead Vegeta….

Put me out of my misery.

You coward…"

Vegeta's anger reached poisonous levels until he nearly reached the breaking point of his sanity. His true demon side was scratching to be let loose and shed blood and he slowly began to let it take over before the realization of her plight made itself known. He smiled in her face, physically seeing it fall.

"It won't work Princess. I'm not going to set your father's dept free by slaughtering you." His wicked smirk grew as the first small puddles of water began to glisten upon the rims of her eyes.

"I don't give a fuck how miserable your disgusting life is." He moved closer until his mouth was near enough to her ear that his lips would graze the sensitive flesh.

"You aren't worth it."

Bulma's suicidal plight had failed. The choice had never really been her's to make. Her life had hung by his fingers like a puppet on a string begging for it's master to release it by cutting the binds and setting it free. He had denied her plea and now she was more his prisoner then every before. And so she did, what many woman do infront of men when at their wits end. She began to cry.

It was the strangest and most foreign sensation. With every sob came a sort of stabbing in his chest. What was this queer feeling? Could it be the slightest twinge of guilt? Vegeta thrust the absurd idea from his mind. He had done away with that useless emotion long ago. This much the proud demon would admit. As much as he despised her, he hated it much more when she cried.

"Why can't you just kill me Vegeta!" she bawled. It was a heart wrenching plea.. or.. well.. it would have been if used upon a creature blessed with such an organ.

Now this was even stranger to him. The more she sobbed the more beautiful she became. Such a remarkable creation she was becoming the more he knew her. Such a mystery was this intriguing apparition of a woman. And still, in her weakened emotional state, he had the intense urge console her in the only way he knew how to console himself.

"Don't you realize how lonely I am?" she wailed broken.

Even more information had made it's way known to him. How could he not have for seen it? Not that he cared… by no mean's he demanded to himself.. but it should have been so obvious. The confined creature had felt the sting of forced isolation. In you and I terms.. She was very lonely.

Suddenly, he looked at her only to see a ruby cloven porcelain vase soaring towards his face. He dodged right in the nick of time, hearing the thick object shatter on the wall behind him and feeling the thousands of pieces collide painfully with his back and wings. Turning in awe back at her, he noticed her grabbing another, full of blood red roses, and hurling towards him yet again.

"I HAD EVERYTHING!" She screamed throwing another.

"A MOTHER!" and another

"A FATHER!" and another

"AND YAMCHA!" Finding no more to throw, she shrank dejectedly down into the shards of glass, slicing her bare feet. She looked pitiful, weeping bitterly and making no attempt to conceal her pain. She was definitely something a mystery to a monster who had never really witnessed such a display. Would she never cease to amaze him?

"and you took them away from me." She whispered to the floor as tears slipped down her dull cheeks, puddling on her chin before stubbornly releasing themselves in droplets to the floor. Something stirred in Vegeta's chest as he mulled over what she had just said. Jealousy?

"Who.. Who is this Yamcha?" Whoa.. he had simply horrified himself with his uncharacteristically weak tone. She met his gaze looking somewhat defeated, if indeed such a quality could ever grace itself upon such a fiery soul of a woman.

"The Prince of East Heaven who I'm going to marry." She breathed as if such a statement had simply emptied her of all remaining strength. Her swollen bottom lip trembled as if she was about to start crying again. But she didn't and it relieved him beyond belief. His gaze remained on her purplish lips wondering why the quivering creations had captured him so. She seemed not even to notice, staring blankly at him with surprisingly dead eyes. Usually so vibrant and burning, it thoroughly disturbed him to see her eyes so empty.

"Why do you care so much for him?" He half pleaded, again dispising his weakness. What could have possibly transpired to make him even give a shit! Still, the jealousy remained, burning a pit at the bottom of his stomach and nearly rising into his throat.

"He is a mere Prince. I am a King." He stated in a commanding voice. As if such a tone could persuade her to believe his plead.

"He is nothing compared to me." He said things so firmly it was as if he could convince himself. Bulma merely stood up and walked gracefully towards him, ignoring the pain as shards of glass embedded themselves into the pads of her feet. She never left his gaze on her short journey and as she neared him a small smile appeared on her lips, completely blowing his mind as to what she could possibly be thinking. Her fingertips made themselves comfortable exploring the many wonders of the side of his face, admiring his strong cheek bone and impressive jaw line. Her touch was completely unpredicted and had most certainly caught him off guard. Still, he welcomed the contact, unexplainable as it was.

"Your right Vegeta." She whispered, dangerously close to his lips. He could feel her tempting hot breath beating against the soft flesh of his plump lips with every spoken word and wondered silently if she had any idea the effect of her closeness was having upon him.

"He isn't a King. He isn't as strong as you or as handsome." Vegeta smirked, openly acknowledging that he liked where this was going. But she removed her hand abruptly from his face, to his ultimate dismay. Walking up to the door, she ignored the puddles following behind her bleeding feet and rested her hand on the door frame, gazing at the bewildered demon.

"He is weak compared to you Vegeta. He's even weak compared to some Angels. He has scars on his face and doesn't have near the muscle definition you have." Vegeta was in his glory by her flattery. At least he was until she continued.

"But he can love Vegeta. He can love. And in this way alone.. you'll never be half the man he is."

Alright.. so I lied.. It's not out by 2 a.m. It's actually 2:46 am. Alright everyone.. I'm so tired Im seeing double.. but I finally fixed the paragraph problem and hope that everyone noticed. Oh and I had to remove my story and repost it so sorry to say.. all my beautiful reviews are gone.

Sorry

Love

Camaro


	8. Chapter 8

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 8**

That night in bed, Vegeta tossed and turned. Despite the warmth of the two concubines huddled on top of him, he felt cold. Staring dismally at the circular ceiling above, he sighed. How long ago had it been since he had commanded Brief to paint a mural on it? Two years? Three? He still remembered it blatantly as if it were just a few days ago. The man's fallen face as he had been commanded to leave his family and perform tedious hours for the sake of art. Vegeta could not have been blamed. After all, it wasn't his fault that Brief was by far the most talented artist in the land. And he only lost three of his family members in the process. A small price to pay for the ridiculous mistakes he had made on the mural.

And now the Demon King gazed up at it, as if seeing it for the first time. The black winged cupids bow, the fallen Angel slathered in blood and the thousands of Demon's surrounding it. It was a magnificent manifestation of the fall of the first angel. The first true triumph of the Demon race. And it had taken 3 years for Vegeta to even have admired it. How had he never even noticed the remarkable craftsmanship demonstrated through the articulate scenery. The swollen swirling clouds tainted in crimson red. It was as if the sky itself was bleeding. The black trees in the distance and dry cracked ground, so much like that of Hell now. It was unfathomably detailed and had taken the man nearly a year's work. Had Vegeta even thanked him? He had figured at the time that sparing his miserable sniveling life had been enough, but now as he stared at the fierce swipes and streaks that had become a life like painting, he wondered silently if maybe it hadn't been enough.

Vegeta was openly infatuated with beauty. He required it from most of his followers and only made exceptions for a few of the most worthy warriors. Was that why he had become so obsessive over the Angel? She may not have known it and he wasn't sure even he did, but he held her in high regard. He looked out for her, and not simply for the reason that she was his hostage. He admired her beauty and saw it as a waste to have such a rare characteristic shattered. But sometimes, especially now, he wondered if it was only for her appearance that he spared her the curse of his fury. How strange it was that he had not retaliated her abrasive attack during the day. Possibly, he told himself, it was shock that had held the monster inside at bay. No one had ever treated him with such fearless disrespect. Truth be told it disturbed him how comfortable she seemed to be with him. And had she really wanted him to kill her?

For reasons unbeknownst to him, the idea made him sick to his stomach. Oh sure.. he'd had his rise and falls, but had the thought of suicide ever crossed his mind? He figured it hadn't. The Demon King would die with honor. Not in such a cowardice, mindless waste of life. Besides.. there had always been a way out for him. He could have any one destroyed whom he so much as wished and it was done. But the Princess, she was helpless in her cause and ..between us.. the thought that her family had not sent a response stunned him as well as it had her.

But it was not these thoughts that had kept the brave dark warrior from rest in this night. Tossing and turning beneath the slippery red sheets and the weight of the women, he remained restlessly awake and in utter turmoil with himself. It was what she had said that kept him from the bond of healthy rest.

So he couldn't love. So what? What could he have said? That she was wrong? That was what had bothered him in the first place. And so he had replied nothing and simply let her flee from the messed room, her bleeding feet padding the marble as she left.

How was it that such qualities as mercilessness, strength and power that he had coated on him self with pride made him feel empty now. Inadequate. Why did he feel so unworthy in her presence, simply because he didn't possess the qualities she did? So he didn't agree with her values and beliefs. Did that make him less of a man? He had been brought up as a true demon and a Prince, neither requiring the useless qualities that she held in such regard. He had been raised with the goal of being the best, constantly out of reach, simply because the family birth right had been awarded to his insolent brother. And now that he had stolen it away.. was it even worth it?

And why oh why was he jealous? It was definitely not an emotion he had tasted in a long time. There had never been a woman he could not attain with a simple gesture of the hand, or a raised eyebrow. He was on the women's most wanted list and still it seemed not even to phase her. His conceited air and open confidence had done nothing to make her desire him. The genes running through his blood had provided him with an uncanny appearance and it wasn't as if he wasn't completely aware. He knew it. Every one did. So why not her? She never looked at him as anything more than any other demon. She never bowed her head in respect, though he'd never asked her to. And the look.. You know.. that kind of.. mmmm.mmm.mmmmmm! look that women get in their eyes when they see something they want. Well.. it wasn't there. Nothing. Only once had he ever even seen her acknowledge she wasn't asexual and that had been when she was speaking of her Prince.

Her Prince. Bah! The idea sickened him. The sniveling, pompous little prick. He didn't deserve her. No.. Vegeta never had seen the man.. but this much he knew. She deserved a King. Not some hormonally challenged little boy. She needed a man. Not.. uhh.. saying that he was that man.. NO! By all means No! he told himself. What a preposterous idea. She wasn't good enough to even play with. She was nothing more then a weak minded fool who was too stupid to even acknowledge the power he held over her. He could do whatever, and I mean whatever he wanted to her and no one but no one would ever say a thing about it. Somehow she seemed oblivious to this fact, results of a naïve way of life. But still.. he did respect her in a rare way. Her passion for balance in the Universe was the driving force behind her fiery will. He could admire her courage. He could associate with the passion.

A sob interrupted his thoughts. Had he really just heard such a sound? Had he simply imagined it? He sat so silently, he could hear the fierce winds outside smashing relentlessly against the stone castle. Finally forgetting the incident and deciding it was simply his imagination, he laid his head back down into the soft pillow underneath. But there it was again, and nothing could convince him otherwise. That sob was coming from the Princess's chambers.

Vegeta tore out of bed, throwing the sleeping women to the floor. Ignoring their cries at impact with the cold marble, he half flew to her room. Was she being hurt? Who could have gotten in? He was completely on edge. He flung her large wooden doors apart and rampaged the dark room. No one was there. He could only see her, wrapped and tangled beneath her black crushed velvet covers.

Cautiously, he made his way over to the large gaudy canopy bed. His large bare feet slapping humorlessly against the smooth marble, he made a mental note to have a fire place installed in her room. It was much too cold for a mere woman. And it wasn't as if she had company in her bed as he preferred. Perhaps he should look into getting her a few male concubines. The idea put a rare smile on his lips. He doubted such a prude woman, as she was, would even know how to draw pleasure from such useful creatures. Though, the idea had merit. He was sickly curious just how influential he could be.. even on a creature of light. He would have to present the idea to her at a later time.

At the moment, he was mainly entrapped with concern at her flailing form, grasping the sheets with white knuckles. Heart forsaken sobs retched from her mouth and she seemed to be crying.. though her eyes remained dry. A twisted look was planted upon her decorative face. She was visibly upset, though still fast asleep.

"Vegeta.." he could have sworn she gasped.. though she was making many ungraspable moans and mumbles.

"No.. no Vegeta don't!" Alright.. that much had come out clear. He half smiled. So she was battling him even in her dreams. She truly did despise him, though the thought did rattle him a bit. She must have sensed a chill in the air from his presence, for she began to shiver, still sobbing almost wildly.

Hesitantly, the demon pushed aside the sheer black material encircling her bed. He sat lightly by her side, watching as her small form battered this way and that against her enemy. Against him. Should he wake her? Truth be told.. he could have sat there all night. There was nothing sexual about it.. simply said.. he was an admirer of beauty and her appearance provided such pleasure. The dark shadows seeping through the material, cascaded across her pale skin. Very little light was seen from the window, as Hell's moon was as pale and dull as could be expected. Still, with his supreme eyesight he could see every detail of her poreless skin. Every little crevice that a normal man could never see. He grinned at her nightgown. He had especially chosen it for her, when the royal seamstress had provided him with a choice. He could still see the gleam in the man's eye when he had smirked and insisted on having only the skimpiest clothing offered. Even though the man was openly gay, even he could not deny the Princess's innocent appeal. And so there she feverously slept, clad in a dark red, thigh high nightgown. It wasn't particularly low cut, though for some reason just about everything she wore appeared that way. Neither were the straps embarrassingly thin. The fact that is was incredibly tight was what held the most appeal in his eyes.

But not long he had stared at her, when he decided to end her restless torture and awaken her to her even more tragic reality.

He couldn't have even brushed her face, when she bolted up right, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His body tensed in reflex to the threatening act and decided it was her sad attempt to hurt him. The gesture was an empty threat and obviously was a failed attempt to do her enemy harm. But then.. as quickly as the ignorant idea had come.. it went. This was no attack.. She needed him. She needed to feel the touch of another being. To be consoled and protected in a moment of utter weakness. Slowly, he placed his hands on the small of her back as she began to bawl on his bare shoulder. He could feel the wetness seeping from her eyes and cascading down his smooth chest but made no attempt to remove it. She needed him to remain calm right now and he decided to at least award her that amount of honor.

"Vegeta!" she sobbed hysterically. This angel would never cease to surprise him with her unpredictable outbreaks.

"I'm so sorry!" She burst out. "About everything. Everything I.. I did.. Everything I said.. I'm so sorry." He wasn't sure he'd made out much in the muffled babble but this much he knew. She had said she was sorry. He simply didn't know how to respond. Would the drama never cease!

"Sorry?" he whispered so gently it surprised himself.. Damn this woman for making him seem so weak. As much as he respected her.. he also loathed himself around her.

"About what Angel?" he asked sternly, pulling back slightly to remove the matted hair from her drenched eyes.

"You were right." He admitted. Had he really just said that? Bah! Cursed Angel.

"No.. " she sobbed, still on the verge of becoming mentally incapacitated.

"No I wasn't. I was wrong to say such things. So.. so…" oh boy.. here it comes..

"So.. so WRONG!" she sobbed uncontrollably. Must she make such a racket? Had she no honor? What if someone else heard such pitiful sobbing? It was bad enough that she was weak in body.. weak in mind was almost worse. She began to convulse wildly, her body wracked by vicious sobs. It really bothered him to see her this way.

"Woman.." he announced only mildly harsh. "You are going to wake the entire castle." Since he had nothing else to offer in consolation for her obvious disillusioned state, he attempted to calm her with tedious practicality. It failed miserably.

"OH! I don't care!" She hollered horsely. Apparently her voice had been resting far more than she.. for it sounded icy and unused. Vegeta was getting some kind of strange kick out of seeing her in such a hysterical state of emotion. It just wasn't like her to be so open about her wrongs.. though he remarked only in his mind that she had made her share of mistakes, none of which she had ever felt the need to apologize for.

"And I lied to you Vegeta." She wailed. Now this was unexpected. That little statement had certainly tipped his curiosity.

"I lied when I said my mom got sick. The truth is.." she openly attempted to calm herself, her face still buried deep into his neck as if she were trying to conceal her it. He warm breath tickled against his skin but he ignored it completely infatuated with her recent words.

"Your father killed my mom. She had agreed to secretly meet him with hope's of making a treaty. He came unexpectedly early and I.. I saw it all.. I saw everything.." Her eyes.. though he couldn't see them, held a haunted look about them.

"I was just too scared to tell you.. cuz.. cuz I thought you'd be mad at me." She made like she would begin crying again but at the last moment caught herself and embedded her face even farther into his embrace. It had been so long since she had experienced physical contact.

"Oh.. That." He relaxed. "I knew you had lied." Bulma pulled back slightly to see into his eyes. They remained their usual dead orbs.

"You.. (sniff) .. did?"

"Yes.. " he said again pushing the irritating hair from her face. Her expressions held a certain form of almost disbelief. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on Princess. Don't you think after all these weeks I would know when your lying? I can read you like a book." He bragged with a false front of confidence. It was actually an incredible lie. He had no idea what she was thinking at this point. She noticeably stiffened.

"Why are you here?" she asked as if finally coming to the realization that she was awake and in the arms of her bare chested enemy.

"You were crying in your sleep." He remarked haughtily. "Someone had to come and shut you up, you would have woken the entire palace idiot." He decided he'd had enough of the weakness and decided it was time to compensate it with his normal cutting remarks. He had been in a momentary trance and was insistent on coming out of it. He removed his hands from her back, as she removed her's from his muscular shoulders, both staring dumbly at the other, dwelling on the consequences ahead for such a moment of weakness.

"I was having a nightmare." She stated softly. He had expected her to reply with her normal fury at being so insulted. But yet again she had thrown him for a loop.

"You.. you died." She whispered in disbelief, staring almost in horror at his blank eyes. Her hand wavered to her mouth.

"Sounds more like a dream." He grunted dryly in a smirk all his own. Still, he did feel a bit hurt, but decided to keep his voice flat as not to alert her to the miserable feelings of insecurity he had had for himself all night. But she shook her head.

"No…………A nightmare………….You.. .. saved me. And then you died. I.. I tried to stop you. But you died.." her voice cracked in the end and fresh tears welled up into her red rimmed eyes. Covering her mouth with her hand to stifle the sobs, she looked simply pitiful..

Vegeta was besides himself with awe. His death truly hurt her. He'd almost cried out in pure shock, if he hadn't been sure such a demonstration would frighten her. After all that had befallen her in his name, his life still had meaning to her. Should he really feel so honored as he did? But it wasn't enough. He needed to calm her. To repay her for such an honor. To.. "console" her in one of the only ways he knew how. A way he knew would put a smile on her face and keep her in a better mood, oblivious to the black world surrounding her.

"Must everything in your life be so dramatic woman?" he rolled his eyes.

"Forget the incessant drama.. It's ruining you. Come with me." He offered his hand and she hesitantly took it before being whisked out of the room.

"This will be an experience you'll never forget."

Uh oh.. what is vegeta up to? Haha.. well You'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out.. also. Gosh.. thanks for the awesome reviews. Had a few morons in there but.. there's always one or two no talent shits who try to piss on other people's work. But it's ok.. It's not like I'm being "Hypocritical" or anything.. hahaha.. sorry I can afford to be rude when people are just being dumb. Oh and another thing.. and please no one take this the wrong way.. most likely its not even being applied to you but just for the record. I don't take constructive criticism well. I just don't. Probably something about the way I was raised. I'm not sure. But what I really can't stand is being harped on.. If you have some none moronic suggestion.. say it.. ONCE. I don't need people telling me how to write my story. And don't.. don't! tell me what details I should put in. keep your ideas to yourself and save them for your next fic. Mine has already been written. I plan on keeping to that story whether or not people think i should. I have to have my own ideas in my story. If you have some idea about what I should put in it.. chances are.. it's probably best kept to yourself. Because I most likely won't put it in. the reason being, not that I mean to be rude.. but I want this story to be mine. I want all the credit to go to me. Im so sorry if that sounds as selfish as I think it does but if you all had been feverously writing something and put your heart into it only to have some schmoe insist its not "detailed" or "descriptive" enough.. or that they have a much better idea to where it should be going… You'd be insulted too. So give a chick a break.. and don't even harp on me.. I won't listen. But I want everyone to know I love ya anyways just for reading. And I know how good intentions can be overlooked when writing. Words are hard to express to people from so many different places and it just so happens that Im the type of bitch to say it like it is. Haha.. Until tomorrow.. This wicked witch is going to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 9**

They sped through the dark hallways on a mysterious course. Where was he taking her? What was going on? Apparently he had entirely forgotten the fact that her feet had been savagely cut the day before, for he rushed her through endless corridors as if the devil was at his heels. ( But then.. haha.. I suppose that was an impossibility since he couldn't have been chasing himself. )

But running as fast as they were, she hardly noticed the pain for the speed he rushed in made her feel like she was gliding. She figured it hadn't even occurred to him to put a shirt on. No.. she'd seen men exposing their chest before, but this was just an entirely different experience. He was built like a statue. You know.. the kind with perfect bodies you were brought to believe didn't really exist. A slime waist, with perfectly sculpted abs she was sure he'd never worked a day in his life to acquire. He had the stomach men work out years for before sporting proudly, but then again she was sure the blood running through his royal veins had taken it's part in such a display. His chest was marvelously chiseled and his rock hard arms beautifully created. He had the perfect physique and obviously had no intention of hiding such a gift. She was almost glad he didn't, though she kept scolding herself for gawking. He wasn't ridiculously huge with bulging neck veins and ugly muscle strains. He retained the slim stature and held himself in high posture. She fought hard not to blush at his incredible back and shoulders, sporting his awe inspiring wings.

"Vegeta!" she begged. The confusion and suspense was simply mind boggling.

"Where are you taking me?" She didn't recognize any of her surroundings. It was almost impenetrably dark and only with him speedily guiding her did she not loose herself in the shadows. She longed to grasp against a wall for balance as he was nearly running too fast for her to contain her footing. The pads of her feet were beginning to burden her, and she suspected she had not removed all of the glass, fearing some still remained imbedded into the soft flesh. Her failing eyesight caught a glimpse of a picture mounted on the blackened wall. Imprisoned in a thick golden rim, she could just make out Vegeta smirking at her. He appeared much older and encased in shadows along his eyes. It was only for a second before the darkness entangled the painting, that she caught a glimpse of the rim of a beard. A beard? She'd seen the Demon King scruffy at times, and with the familiar hang over shadow enveloping his chin but never with a thick line of facial hair.

And that's when it hit her. That wasn't Vegeta, but none other than his treacherous father. She glared at the quickly escaping rim of the frame before it entirely disappeared from sight. She wished the bastard was still alive so that she could kill him herself. She didn't even curse her conscience with feeling guilty over such thoughts. What did it matter anymore? Her father had forgotten her and her fiancée couldn't give a damn about her absence. He was probably screwing some palace whore as they scurried through the palace. She had been betrayed. So what use was it to condemn the feelings of pure hatred if those who had entrusted such a conscience into her had ultimately forsaken her. So what if she was an angel? Fuck them all.

"Vegeta!" she groaned as her side began to ache. He glared back at her. And though he seemed to be oblivious to the fact that he was still holding her hand, being a girl.. well she just wasn't. She felt a little flustered about the entire ordeal. Here she was being rushed through the castle of Hell, her arch enemy totting her around by the hand, all the while cursing her very existence. But damn if she was going to reject the proposition of keeping her mind off of her dark depression.

"Quiet woman!" He whispered harshly. But then there came a sideward smirk tugging at his lips.

"I told you I'd make you forget the drama. Just trust me." Trust him? Did he really just say that? So was this his plan? To prance around the entire castle so as to make her forget her sad state in life? Well he could forget it.. It wasn't helping and only making her tired. But just as soon as she had decided to voice her drastic opinion, he halted making her topple into him at full speed. It was incredibly embarrassing. Almost as bad as waking up with her arms around him sobbing like lunatic. He only glared down at her and putting his finger to his lips, gesturing for her to be quiet. He walked semi-tiptoed towards a large door, opened about a foot.

He braved a quick glance through, and then turned to her with a disturbing smile planted on his face. He was up to something..

Gesturing her again for silence, he cracked the door open farther only causing a small squeak from the rusty holders, and crept quietly through. For lack of a better plan, she took a deep breath and continued after him. She was only mildly afraid of what may lie ahead. What could possibly be more frightening then Vegeta anyways? He was the strongest being alive. But there was an undeniably mischievous smile on his face and it only served to tempt her curiosity further.

She would have gasped at the large brightly lit room if it weren't for Vegeta's piercing stare that quieted her mouth. She glances around at what she guessed was a banquet hall of some sort. Large red pillars circled around the large bright room. From what she could see from behind the demon, the massive hall was beautiful. No. It wasn't heavily decorated with the usual immense sculptures of demon Gods and fallen warriors. It was quite simple, if I dare say so. It was the floor and the ceiling that groped her attention.

The floor was a deep burgundy, not the usual blood red color she had begun to tire of. It was a luscious color, prohibited by a lacing of rich gold around the edges. Deep, thick mounds of black swirled elaborate shapes and designs in the middle. It was simply different and that was what held it's obvious appeal to her.

Now the ceiling was a different matter. Glancing upwards, it completely took her breath away. And Vegeta observed her reaction with a light gleam in his eye, she hadn't noticed. It was blue. Marvelous, luscious, beautiful blue! My stars she had missed it's sweetness. So appeasing to the eyes, it invoked a warm feeling that swelled into her belly and gave her the fond sense of home. She had the sudden urge to hold out her arms and spin beneath it's alluring grace, if she hadn't been sure Vegeta would have scorned her for such childish reaction. As it was, she was completely spell bound with it's capture.

But it was not only the beautiful azure color that mounded her glory. The painting inside was beyond belief and tears flew to her eyes. She covered her mouth to silence the sob that tried to escape. It was her mother.

Standing amongst bright puffy clouds, the beautiful Angelic Queen wore a fresh smile and bright blue eyes beamed down at her only daughter. She was painted with furious hand strokes that had captured every flawlessly beautiful hint of passion that only in life had she held. A delicate hand was placed over her heart, as if drawing special attention to the dark ruby stone hanging from an unfamiliar necklace. The fact that Bulma had never seen her mother wearing such a beautifully morbid piece of jewelry, never even touched her mind, so caught up in the appearance of her mother's smile as she was. It was as if she were alive, peering down towards her crying daughter. She wore a long white gown, wisped by a furious wind. Her beautiful blonde hair flying in front of her face made Bulma want to reach out and stroke away the tedious strands.

Vegeta observed the Angel's reaction with extreme hurt. He had thought she would be pleased to see the momentum to her mother that his father had ordered to be painted before he died. Not that he did anything for her pleasure.. No.. Vegeta certainly had no intention of removing the dark clouds that seemed to over shadow the Princess. Of course not, he told himself. He quite simply couldn't have whimpering woman disturbing his rest any longer. Try as he might, he really couldn't convince himself. He had wanted to surprise her. To … make her smile again. It seriously bothered him, he had only seen it once. And only then was it directed towards that blubbering little orphaned brat. Her reaction displeased him and he watch in contained anger as she sank to her knees, still facing upwards.

Bulma held her hands tightly over her mouth to silence the sobs that began to wrack her entire body. She was quaking all over, her small shoulders shaking up and down. To her surprise Vegeta came to kneel next to her, a strange look planted on his unreadable face. Was he?... Was he upset? The idea unnerved her. He bore an almost concerned look as his eyebrows tilted slightly, very slightly, upwards.

"What's wrong with you?" He nearly demanded. He didn't mean to sound so cold, but her actions were so queer to him. Honestly.. the woman insisted on crying over everything. He couldn't even remember a time when seeing someone bawling over something less than losing their life. Lately, he'd witnessed enough meaningless bawling fits to last him eternity.

"I thought you would like it, woman. So why do you continue to whimper over it?" Again with the harsh words. Why couldn't he just keep quiet and let the pathetic creature blubber until she hadn't the strength to keep it up any more.

Suddenly, she gasped and through her tears a gorgeous smile graced her features. She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed as hard as he ever imagine she could. He had thought this creature was weak? She was almost straggling him!

For once in his wretched life, the proud Demon King was at a complete loss for words beneath her pressured embrace. She didn't know what had come over her but at the moment she didn't give a damn. He had given her the most precious gift anyone could have ever presented. He had reunited her with her mother. She pressed her cheek against his, still sobbing relentlessly.

"Oh Vegeta!" She cried into his ear. It was just quiet enough not to shatter his ear drum.

"Oh Vegeta it's not that. It's just so beautiful." She gasped almost hoarsely.

"So why are you shedding those ridiculous tears again?" He asked curiously pulling back enough to look at her face. She glared falsely at him, still smiling through blurry eyes and quivering lips.

"Oh.. stupid!" she half laugh, half sobbed. "They're tears of joy. I'm happy." A supreme look of confusion possessed his face as he tried to decipher what exactly these "tears of joy" meant.

"I had… " she smiled with tears gathering once again in her eyes. Her top lip curled up, while she tried to stop herself from crying again. She gasped giving in to the tears.

"I'd forgotten .. " she gasped again. "I'd forgotten what she looked like." She started crying again but this time Vegeta wrapped her up in a bear hug and let her sob into his throat.

She sat there crying into his soft flesh, thinking only how much she needed this right now. She needed the comfort. Even if it was coming from her enemy. And at this point, she reasoned that perhaps he wasn't her enemy. So she sat there for fifteen minutes, digging her nails subconsciously in to his back and sobbing. He must have thought she was simply the biggest idiot alive but she didn't care. At least he was there. At least he set aside his pride for one moment and subjected himself to her torture. He had to despise the situation he was in.

Vegeta loved the situation he was in. (Ha ha ha!) Here he was, doing nothing but allowing her to cry and she had run full fledge into his arms. He adored the way her body seemed to mold to his. He had done nothing but hold her and she had completely subjected herself to him. So.. the frigid virgin wasn't completely unattainable. He chuckled to himself. He may have respected her, but coming from him, that wasn't saying much.

When it seemed the mass of hysteria had ebbed, he unwrapped her from his arms and stared disapprovingly at her. She looked down unable to meet his gaze. It was simply piercing and intimidated her. She had shown him her weakest side and wasn't sure what he'd make of it. A small smile suddenly tugged at his dark lips, totally throwing her off. It was as if an imaginary light had gone off in his head, and his dead black eyes suddenly shown very brightly. Smirking in that mischievous grin I love, he pulled her to her feet, only mildly gentle.

"I thought I told you to let go of the drama." He scolded, though it was clear to her that his purpose in speaking to her wasn't for such a meager reason. She waited until he had composed his thoughts to look into his eyes and allow him to continue.

"How about I show you some real fun?" He chuckled with a wink.

Hey guys! This is Camaro of today, as in THIS author's note is being written by the 19 year old Camaro as opposed the 16 year old that wrote this. Had a little bit of trouble with viruses on my comp and what not, but it was easily taken care of. Sorry about the delay with chapters and what not, but hey, I love you guys SO much. I got online today and I was like "holy shit!" So thank you very much for the reviews and even some of the more private emails with encouragement.

Though this story is done (yes, its completely finished) and was so a while back when it was first released, I'm happy to post it all again so that new, fresh faces have the chance to read it as well.

So again, thank you very much. Don't forget, I LOVE talking and my AIM is TheVegasQueen so please, feel free to give me a heads up now and then. Plus, I LOVE fanart, and when this story was first released, had over 100 pieces of it. So if you have any angel/demon ideas and like to draw, please, send me an email and I'll put it on the site.

Until next time, thank you again and I love you.

Camaro


	10. Chapter 10

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 10**

"Have some fun? What do you mean?" She asked. He was such a mystery. She simply couldn't figure him out. One minute he was ready to exterminate her from existence and the next he was pitying her in his arms and giving her presents. He was so puzzling she figured she'd never understand or be able to predict him. But that was Vegeta for you. Always one to shock and please.

And so again they were roaming the endless hallways in search of a way to rid her of her "drama" as he so kindly referred to it. What was she to do? Pretend her life was one big fucking party after another? Well it wasn't. Why should she even try to kid herself into thinking it was anything less than pathetic and …a lot of the time, just down right scary. But then again.. she had been feeling sorry for herself a lot and dwelling far too much on the downsides of life.

"Always the questions with you Princess. Why can't you simply just trust me? It's not like I couldn't have already killed you a thousand times over by now if I wanted to Angel." She glared overly fiercely. I mean.. he was just stating facts. So what if they weren't pretty? She needed to get used to him. Apparently, the way things were looking, she'd be with him for quite some time and it was probably a good idea to just be blunt. He considered himself the most honorable demon alive and was deadly honest. He refused to hide the fact that he'd slaughter his own father and basically stolen the crown from his brother. Sure.. other demon's knew the throne was never rightfully his. So what? It was his nonetheless and for his ruthlessness he was feared and respected. He would have it no other way.

"Bulma… BULMA!" she barked at him, still following close behind as they wandered through a large meeting hall.

"What?" he sneered. Yes.. yes.. he knew perfectly well what she meant. But did he intend on passing up a perfectly good excuse to piss her off?.. oh he thought not!

"Bulma.. That's my name."

"And where exactly is the part where I'm supposed to give a shit?" he chuckled. So.. the bastard had fooled her. He knew perfectly well what her name was. Damn him.

"VEGETA!" she hollered, halting her speed walk. She placed her hands angrily on her hips, giving him her best scowl. He only grinned, making her grit her teeth.

"If you knew my name all along, why don't you ever use it?" she seethed through her teeth.

"All you ever call me is Princess, Angel or Woman.. Can we get anymore barbaric? You sound like a complete savage you know." She informed him haughtily. Strutting dangerously near to her, he bent down so that his face lingered a mere inch from her own, noses almost touching.

"Oh? Well.. maybe I like being savage." He raised an eyebrow.

"Besides," he brushed her off, walking away. "Some thing tells me you'd like it rough." He snickered. He doubted she had any idea what he was implying.

What the FUCK was he implying?

"I'm sure I have no idea what your talking about Vegeta. And I'm almost positive I don't want to." She held her nose excessively high in the air, strutting past him snobbishly. Only a true Princess could pull off that little routine! Ha! Let him catch her off guard now!

He slipped an arm possessively around her slim waste and smashed her forcefully against his chest, beaming down at her with a devilish smirk only HE could pull off. He chuckled flashing his silvery fangs.

Damn him.. he'd done it again.

"Oh? So sure are you? Well.. " he raised his thick eyebrows. "Something tells me that sooner or later.. your BOUND to figure it out. I just hope I'm the one doing all the informing." He laughed.. a deep throaty sound that bounced off the walls in the large porcelain room, they now inhabited.

She stared wide eyed at him, trying hard not to let on that she'd just had the sickest idea that she knew EXACTLY what he was proposing. Pushing out her bottom lip, she glared at him.

"Let me go Vegeta." He only smirk, tightening his grip until she was forced to place her hands against his bare chest and try to push herself away. The entire display was ridiculous and she knew it.

"I said let me go Vegeta!" she ordered fiercely. He shrugged, lessening his grip gradually before setting her free to totter away from him.

"Whatever you say.. Bulma." He rolled his eyes sarcastically. Suddenly her hand was grasped by his and she caught him looking VERY intently at her body.

"But someday.. you won't tell me to let go.." he beamed.

"Someday you'll scream for me."

Before entering through a pair of enormous double doors, Vegeta silenced her with his fingers. She couldn't figure out why exactly she had continued following him but had privately decided it would probably be better than roaming the unfamiliar hallways all night alone. She tried to sneak a peak through the small crack of the open door. It couldn't have been more then a foot open but Vegeta pushed her back with his arm, looking disapprovingly at her.

"Don't be so obvious." He whispered close to her. "I told you we were having fun."

Bulma wasn't sure she'd like his idea of "having fun" but remained quietly behind him as told. Slowly he peaked his head around the door frame and returned looking incredibly sly.

"Look in there." He told her. "But be quiet when you do."

Curiously, she poked her head cautiously through the doors and beheld a medium sized room. It wasn't lit very well and there were some corners she couldn't see. All in all though.. for the immense palace, it was pretty plain.. Same common red walls and black marbled floor. But not far from where she stood, a fat long haired Demon sat hunched back into his small chair. She was simply amazed that under his extreme weight, the pressured chair hadn't crumpled. He was huge! His entire face was embedded in his double chin, as he lay far back in his chair with his pudgy little hands resting on his chunky stomach.

She'd never seen a demon so hideous. For the most part, the race was built sleek and graceful. Their powerful bodies and beautiful faces over shadowed by enormous wings. This demon only possessed two, hardly useful wings perched on his back, hunched against his little chair as he slept.. On guard duty.

Feeling his hard chest press against her back, Bulma looked up to see Vegeta gazing through the doors as well. Was he mad that this lazy was sleeping on the job? Would he punish him? A large mischievous smirk, made itself known, as his hand slithered to her own and laid on top of it. She was a loss for words and figured it was probably for the best since he had commanded ultimate silence from her. Lifting his hand, and taking hers prisoner along with it, he pointed his index finger at the chubby man.

"Watch this." For a split second a small ball began to form in front of his finger and she had to force herself not to gasp. Suddenly, the red sphere of energy shot forth and she feared he had aimed his incredible ball of power at the poor unsuspecting man.

One of the legs of the chair burst into flying specks of wood and the fat man was dropped like a potato to the hard ground. Bulma was stunned for a split second, before covering her mouth to halt the burst of laughter that had bubbled forth.

The huge man cursed, rudely awakened from his slumber. He found himself sitting on the cold hard floor, his ass throbbing. What the? Glancing beneath him, he caught sight of the familiar chair leg.

"EVERY DAMN TIME!" he swore, violently kicking the weak, shattered chair pieces scurrying across the slick floor. It was then that he heard the sound. Like a muffled snort of laughter. His eyebrows furrowed suspiciously, before he charged the doors and flung them open. He gave the dark surroundings a once over. Nothing but darkness. No one at all. He grunted in frustration, before stomping back into his room where he took up his guarding post once more, leaning angrily against the wall.

"Must have been my imagination." He mumbled, resting his large head against the stone wall.

They had heard the fat man's grumble from outside the room, positioned against the wall. Vegeta was shielding them with his large outstretched black wings, camouflaging them into the shadows, his hands on either side of Bulma's head. The fat fool hadn't even seen them, despite the idiot Princess's poorly hidden bought of laughter. Truth be told, he'd almost burst out himself. This was by far one of his favorite night games, although he'd never played with anyone else. It was actually funner sharing the humor with someone else to appreciate it. He waited a second longer than he figured he really needed, peering deeply into her wet eyes.

She'd almost fallen on her ass laughing. And now suppressing the urge to burst into howling laughter had forced more tears into her eyes. COULD SHE EVER STOP! Was this every angel's curse? A never ending supply of liquid in the eyes? But this display was not so disturbing as the others. It almost made the whole experience funnier.

"Ah.. Yajirobe.. by far the most entertaining of my guards." He whispered. She stifled even more chuckles beneath her hand.

"Do you think we could do it one more time?" she asked with wide eyes. She looked so adorable. Even to him! Grinning he leaned even closer than their already tight stance.

"I can do it .. all night long." He joked. Well.. actually it was quit true in one sense, but he knew she meant the torturing of the guard instead of his thinking. She smirked, knowing damn good and well what he meant. She was beginning to catch on to his innuendo and didn't mind at all. He was incredibly entertaining tonight and she knew full well she was seeing a side to him no one else even knew existed. She liked this side.

"Alright then… Let's see if you can" she lifted an eye brow seductively, "do it one more time."

He smirked grateful for her understanding. He was having an extreme influence on her and he knew it wouldn't be long until he could basically have her eating out of the palm of his hand. Just like everyone else. She'd be his slave before it even hit her that it had been his plan all along. And by then, he smirked, it'd be too late.

Tip toeing over to the door, he gestured for her to follow. Braving a peep into the room, he caught sight of a snoring Yajirobe planted against the wall. He hadn't really expected the man to fall asleep so quickly. He'd done this a million times before and it usually took about a good ten minutes before the bum drifted off.

So what was Vegeta planning now? There was no chair anymore. His first little prank had taken care of that. All that remained of the once proud piece of wood, was splinters scattered across the floor. So now there was no leg to shoot out from under him. Or was there? Vegeta wouldn't..

As he pointed his finger towards the man, Bulma shrieked and attempted to grab his arm. A single line of energy escaped his finger, going directly in the place intended.

"HA!" The falsely asleep man screamed! He'd been faking the entire time and now observed two vague faces peering at him through the opened door.

"I caught you this time you-" he was cut off as a large piece of cement landed atop his head, a piece of a stone gargoyle that had once been placed along the wall above.

The two face's eyes widened horribly before they scattered, bumping into each other in their confused flurry. But the rock hard piece of stone hadn't been enough to knock him out and he'd be damned if he let the two culprits flee unmaimed. He scurried after them, barging through the doors and following the two running shadows, not far ahead of him. Turning a corner, he let out a stream of curses as he saw nothing. So the Bonnie and Clyde duo had escaped again. Damn them to Hell.. uhh.. AGAIN!.

Far above the swearing man, Bulma straddled Vegeta's slim waist beneath her. He was holding them suspended in the air.. His thick wings shielding them as he held her back against the ceiling. He couldn't look down and seemed completely at ease to gaze into her wide eyes. Her weight wasn't much, but having every single part of her body pressed tightly against his was sort of unnerving. His hands and toes were pressed against the ceiling, as the rest of his body was against her's. It was incredibly sexual although not intended. Yajirobe would have killed her for such a prank and he didn't need rumors flying around about nighttime practical jokes. He was far too respected for such an embarrassing account. Still, the entire situation was humorous beyond all logic.

Bulma was beside her self. She wanted to laugh at the hilarious encounter they had shared. She wanted to be freed from this embarrassing posture. She wanted mostly to kiss the dark creature so close to her.

Was that the look? No way. It had been there for a second.. Had it not? The darkness was playing tricks on him. For a split second there he'd gotten the arousing sensation that the angel, sprawled out on top of him, wanted to be kissed. But just as soon as he was confirming the suspicion and moving in for the kill.. it was gone. Had it even been there in the first place? Or was it treacherous wishful thinking? Damn if he knew. But now only a blank expression bore into him and the demon decided the coast was clear.

Damn him.. Damn herself. Why did he have to be so.. AH! And why did she have to get so.. AH! It was so frustrating. She'd never, NEVER wanted to grab someone and attack their mouth like that before. Sure..she and Yamcha kissed. A LOT. They didn't do much else, but only because she held him at bay with a ten foot pole most times. So why did she feel like tearing down all the protective reserves and take his beautiful full lips into her own? The feeling was so foreign to her. Was Hell having this effect on her? Was HE having this effect on her? But she had to compose herself, planting a false look of calm reserve on her face when inside she was tearing at the seams to get at this handsome creature between her thighs.

Not long after her reserves were replaced did he let her down, gently and slowly. Saying nothing, they walked side by side in complete silence through the cold corridors and hall ways. Bulma had no idea where they were, the castle was so huge, and suspicions told her neither did Vegeta. For he wore a confused face and avoided looking at her.

What was she thinking? He wished he knew. She was the biggest riddle in the entire universe. Heaven and Hell. So did she want him? Had she succumb to him finally? If not.. how much longer would the tedious task be? And what if it never came? Could he handle the rejection? He'd never tasted it's poison before but could imagine the consequences if he ever did. Blood, guts and asses would be flying everywhere! He got what he wanted. And what he wanted right now was simple.. Not too much to ask. He wanted her.. to want him.

('I want him,') … 'no I don't' … ('oh please, yes I do') .. 'please God don't let me' .. ('why should I even deny it') .. 'uhh.. cuz it's wrong'….('is it? Why?')…'because I love Yamcha.'… ('oh yeah')… It was as if her insides were telling her two different things. She felt like she had a split personality from the tormenting battle raging within. And so.. being fond of self control… she ignored them both, simply walking along side her tormentor.

'hmmm… guess I'll just have to pull out all the stops.' He told himself with a smirk.

Where was he off to now? And that familiar devilish gleam in his eyes? Oh boy…

He led her into a small room.. the smallest she'd been in since she'd unwillingly inhabited the castle. It wasn't excessively small.. nothing in the place was. It was just that every other room seemed to be needlessly elaborated and large. The room was cozy, much warmer then the rest of the castle with a small controlled fire burning in the far right corner. It cast a comfortable glow across the Victorian decorated room. A talented statue sat in the corner, a blackened sculpture of a beautiful woman, only it seemed as it the arms had been cut off. It appeared incredibly old but still miraculously intact.

The rest of the room could be likened to that of a bar.. with a large island in the middle and small wooden stools placed around it. On the island was a breath taking amount of what she considered some sort of food, each plate holding a different colored assortment, although different from the regular ordurves Vegeta had sent to her room every night. Each small ramekin held a certain type of luxury. One contained several small bright red balls, each with a stem extending from them.

"Cherries." He informed her. "Maraschino Cherries."

It seemed he wanted her to comply with him and try one, and so, bravely, she reached out and plucked one from the dish, popping it into her mouth stem and all.

He supposed he should have told her not to eat the entire thing, but it was fun to watch her make an idiot out of herself, so he watched in comical resolve.

Her mouth was exploding in flavor. The plump.."cherry" seemed to burst in her mouth, accompanied by rivers of flowing juice, seeping into every crevice of her mouth and taunting ever taste bud. It was hard to describe the flavor as she chewed, forcing more and more of the glorious juices out of the marvelous creation. It was so.. sweet. Nothing like bland food in Heaven. This creation was made for pleasure and she was simply rolling in it as she popped one cherry after another into her ravenous mouth.. Had it really been that long since she'd eaten? It had been an eventful day and she supposed she hadn't consumed anything since early morning when one of her barbaric hermaphrodite servants had reluctantly slapped it on her bed stand.

And so she ate every single one, her eyes searching for another heaping plate of them amongst the many ramekins also on the table. Finding none, her bottom lip sagged and she felt entirely let down, her taste buds begging for more.

In front of her, Vegeta smirked, holding out a case of brown bars. None of them looked even the slightest bit appetizing in comparison with the marshmallow cherries or whatever they were called.

"So tell me Princess," he chuckled making her tense nervously, "Have you ever tried chocolate?"

Shaking her head, he laughed, intimidatingly showing off his abnormal fangs.

"Well then," he grinned wickedly. "You must… It's really quite.." he cocked his head to the side.

"Sinful."

Alright everybody.. that's it for right now. I can hardly see straight anymore. I haven't been getting enough sleep lately because of this fic and it's beginning to show immensely. Ive got these massive freakin lines beneath my eyes and my skins unnaturally pale. Weird huh? I guess its time to stop the staying up late typing and drinking. Not good for you I guess. Plus im afraid it's starting to show in my work. Half the time I don't even know where im going with this.. even though most of it's written out. So anyways. Special love to Cimorene-Kitty (nice to have you back), my girl DarkAngelB, wonderfully appreciated VejitaGurl, my ever supportive an awesome VeryShortMidget, and my newly appointed to the favorite people list.. QueenPhoenix.

You are now all a part of this Epic story, and believe me, you'll understand what I mean once we get to later chapters. I have faith that this story will not go unnoticed, as it didn't the first time.

Until tomorrow night.. love you guys.. oh and thanks to IronMayden and GetaGirl 24/7, a return fan. You guys are amazing, what else can I say.

Love

Camaro


	11. Chapter 11

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 11**

"Chocolate?" What a strange name. She eyed the presented bar cautiously. Personally, she'd rather have moved on to the other commodities positioned on the table, but decided he may have been insulted at the decline. And so, not wanting to appear rude, she took the small, hard form into her hand and bit down.

The food was hard and she had remote difficulty biting a piece off. When finally successful, she mold over the strange creation noting how it strangely seemed to melt in her mouth. Now how exactly would you describe the taste of chocolate? I am finding myself at a loss for words worthy enough to detail the strange sensation. I will say this.. she was deeply impressed. It had an identifiable flavor that she new she could never pass up again. The sweetness was incredibly rewarding but not unpleasantly over killed.

"Oh God!" she proclaimed with her mouth full. "It's absolutely sinful!"

He gave her that looked that was seeping with "Well duh!", before chewing a piece himself. Privately, chocolate had always been his personal favorite, even as a young Prince he had ordered it delivered to his room daily. He sighed out loud, condensing the once proud bar into smooth liquid form. He had always gotten what he wanted. One way or another. He'd wanted chocolate.. it was his. He wanted someone killed.. consider it done. He'd wanted a woman.. she was his before the night was over. Even when he'd desired the throne, he'd gotten it out of courage and strength. He could only think of two things that he'd ever even lost, neither of which he would ever speak of to another living soul.

But her.. she wasn't so easy. He couldn't read her. Couldn't even tell if she was attracted to him. And it drove him up the wall. How old was he when he'd enjoyed his first woman? 13.. maybe 14? And since then he couldn't even keep track of the others. But he was quite familiar with the female race, to say the least. He could always pick up the signs.. vague as they could be at times. He could simply glance at a concubine and know whether or not she would come willingly or not. He'd never been refused but the idea of taking a woman who wasn't in to "it" whole souled was entirely undesirable to him. He'd never rapped a woman and damned if he ever did.

No.. it wasn't that he was unfamiliar with the practice. He'd seen it happen a thousand times before and never done a thing to stop it. But the idea of he himself embarking on such a dishonorable attack was literally appalling. What was the fun in sex if both parties weren't enjoying it? There wasn't he decided and so had never attempted such a disgusting act. But if others got off on it.. hey.. that was their business.

And so he had no idea what to make of the Princess's actions as she greedily snatched the entire supply of chocolate and bounded out of the room. Why that greedy little witch! How dare she steal his chocolate and run away with ..

OH! Hmmm..So.. the little imp wanted to play a game did she? Please.. as if he couldn't catch up to her in a second if he wanted. Still, her outgoing nature appealed to him and he stood up, stretching proudly before turning out the door in a slow pursuit.

"Hahahaha!" She laughed prancing down the dark hallway. So maybe she really didn't have a clue where she was. She had the chocolate and was sure that if she continued her speed, Vegeta would never catch her and she'd be declared the ultimate winner of this little game of cat and mouse. And so she scurried to and fro through the hallways, occasionally running painfully face first into a hidden wall. Just how big was this castle? From outside it could have been an entire mountain but inside an even bigger maze of rooms and hallways. Would they never end? BUMP!

"Ow! What the?" she had run smack into a hard chest and looking up she saw the familiar handsome face and dark eyes gleaming back at her.

So he'd found her. Little thief. He greedily snatched the candy bars out of her grasp and threw some into his mouth, only leaving one left as he munched and gobbled them down while smiling in her face. So he'd won yet again.. Foolish Angel. Would she never understand that there was simply no surprising him? After all he was the-

"HEY!"

She'd gotten the best of the demon again and was speeding down the hallway, shoving the last of the chocolate into her mouth. She was grabbed around the waist as she gulped down the last bite, and smashed against his rock hard chest. He was simply enraged at her for her deceitfulness!

He had gotten the biggest kick out of her thievery. The beautiful little brigand! And now she stared triumphantly right back at him as if she'd just won all of Hell over in a bet. She was so proud of herself. She should be. He was.

"Hmph! I win!" she boasted right in his smug face. "This weak little Angel just pulled one over on you, mighty Demon King! I got the last of the chocolate and you know it." Now between us.. I think her comment was going a bit too far. Did she really have to rub it in his face with his temper as short as it was? I don't think so but apparently he hadn't even been paying attention for he seemed not to mind at all. Or maybe.. just maybe he had something else planned.

"Oh.. You think you've won huh?" he laughed, his hands still pinning her body against his.

"Well.. I just happened to know that you haven't gotten all of the chocolate Angel. And I plan on having the rest for myself." If he was ever going to get his way.. he'd just have to go out on a limb for it.

"Huh?" she asked confused. Was he bluffing just so he didn't look like such a loser?

"HA! Fat chance buddy!" She bragged with her nose positioned about an inch or two from his, hoisted in the air snobbishly.

"I've won and you know it.. So why don't you just suck it up and-"

Her eyes widened and her breath was taken away as his plump lips were pressed fully against her's. Was he really doing what she thought he was?

Was he really doing this? Kissing some lowly Angel simply because he couldn't handle the rejection? It was forbidden. His murdered father would be turning over in the dirt he'd left him in. The thought put a smirk on Vegeta's face and he dug his lips into her's even more so.

She didn't know what to do.. It was what she wanted wasn't it? She felt his thick lips part and suck her top lip into his warm mouth. Should she really? Oh.. Hell why not!

He was stunned by her boldness as she took his entire bottom lip into her wet mouth and began cascading her tongue over the sensitive flesh. He could feel every bit of pressure from the wet, hot member as it slide back and forth, back and forth. Up and down, up and down, sucking the saliva from his swollen lip and mixing it sexually with her own.

His fingers ran up and down her spine, sending chills through her body. Standing on tip toe, she pressed her chest harder against his, her sharp finger nails digging into his bare back and running tantalizingly up and down, leaving grazing marks. He was hunched over her, and his skillful tongue was making it's way into the hot destination of her mouth, never wavering from it's course and begging for access. She complied, accepting the sweet member into her body.

The two extensions ran fiercely along each other, each tasting the waiting flavor the other possessed, admiring the honey that flowed from the compressed mouths. The rhythm speeded up only slightly and soon their tongues were caressing in time with their mouths. His strong jaw line moving in tune with her's.

What was that? Something was tickling her along her collarbone.. She tried to ignore it but simply could not as it began to slide further down, dangerously close to her exposed cleavage. That bastard, it was his finger! He moved the digit down to the collar line of her gown, if you could call it the collar line, and tugged playfully at the fabric, still invading her mouth. Before she pulled away and decked him, he moved the finger gently in between and cascaded along her stomach. Perhaps she had been too hasty. Maybe he hadn't even realized what he was doing. Surely he wouldn't think of her as easy sexual prey! That was pure insolence and just plain dumb of her to suspect in the first place. Here she was, merely kissing Vegeta and almost accusing him of treating her like some petty palace whore. Ha! He would never treat her so low!

And that's about when she felt his large, powerful hands cup her butt cheeks, pulling up her hips and grinding them together with his own. She. Was. MORTIFIED!

No one.. NO ONE.. ever touched her that way. Fuck him and his false sentimentalities. She knew it had all been one big fucking gimmick. Son of a Bitch!

Ahh! The wonderful feel of thick, meaty flesh in his hands. It was one of his favorite parts of a woman. How could it not be? It was the perfect handle as he pulled her tempting body against his own, over and over. Releasing and then pulling back, it almost could have past for the real thing. Suddenly, he felt her tongue slide very slowly back and she grazed her fine teeth over his bottom lip. The sensation nearly drove him into a frenzy, it felt so amazing. So domineering and brave.. so..

OUCH!

She dug her dull teeth into his fat bottom lip, just enough to cause extreme pain but avoid breaking the skin. He nearly threw her back against the wall, as he pulled sharply away. He glared daggers as he covered his throbbing mouth. She stared hard back, but not nearly as poisonous as him.

"Are you fucking CRAZY?" He seethed loudly through harshly gritted teeth. Still covering his mouth, he stomped up to her in a blind fury and slid his hands around her neck before hoisting her into the air with one arm. She gagged and kicked at him to no avail. No.. He wouldn't kill her. But he'd be absolutely damned before he let her get away with that little trick. He wanted so badly to crush her fragile little neck into bloody matter. One flick of the wrist and his hands would be soaked to the elbow in beautiful, rich blood, seeping through his fingers. As though being awakened from a dream, his eyes opened wide. What was he doing? He was on the verge of murdering his key to hell.

Slowly he let her down, letting her cough and gasp on the ground by herself. He'd shown her too much kindness for one night. And where had it all gotten him? Hm? Certainly not where his devious body had expected to be five minutes from now. Here he was after introducing her to her own mother's mural, giving her chocolate and all he had to show for it was a tediously bruised lip. Damn that little..

"TRAMP!" She screamed in fury. His eyebrows raised in total surprise. Now just where did she get off being mad at him. He hadn't attacked her mouth relentlessly! And then it hit him. Yes.. he had. So was that what this was all about. She hadn't wanted him to kiss her. So why did she even comply. Confusing woman.

"That's all you think of me!" She accused in a loud voice. What was this? Had she really figured it all out? Did she know he had only done all of that pathetic, weakling stuff just to entrap her?

"You think that just because your acting different tonight, I'm going to let you do whatever to me just like your little bedroom sluts?" She screamed. Did she have to announce that so loudly? Clever little Angel. She simply intrigued him all the more so. She wasn't one to be so easily fooled. He'd simply have to change his plan.

"Princess.." 'uh uh. don't start out that way..'.. "Bulma.. I don't think that of you at all. Where would you have gotten such a ridiculous idea?" he beamed sincerely, though on the inside he was chuckling wickedly. Let her try and see through this little act. She faltered.

"Well.. well because you..because you." she stammered.

"Because I did this?" He grabbed two full handfuls yet again, hoisting them apart. She glared fiercely at him, completely embarrassed and fighting not to blush.

"How dare you touch me so? I am a woman. How can you treat me with such disrespect?" She shot. He smiled. A real smile, but something told her the gorgeous, dimpled display was as phony as could ever be imagined.

"Angel.. it was not meant in disrespect.. It's simply all part of a Demon's embrace.. I would never dishonor you so." The words, dull and lifeless as they came out, put her at ease. But did he really mean them? Had she been right about the act?

Now what exactly does a man think before he kisses a woman? I would love to know. How can you write about something going on in a person's head that isn't even the same sex as you? Well human men will forever remain a mystery to me, but believe me when I say that the thoughts running through Vegeta's wicked mind were far from innocent.

He would have her. Let there be no mistaking it. She was fresh meat and he was dying for a taste. Maybe because it was the only appetizer on the menu not available, but either way.. The Demon King got what he wanted. And so.. placing a sentimental look in his dull eyes.. he advanced on her again, rivaling in the fact that he could almost see the nervousness protruding through her body.

Was he going to kiss her again? She wanted him to. She did.. but something about the sweetly tilted eyebrows and puffed out lips screamed false. Maybe she was only imagining his dishonest conduct because insecurities still lingered over him. He was a completely foreign being. And she had been kissing him so passionately before without even realizing how forbidden and disgraced such an act was. She should be ashamed. But she wasn't. And now as he came nearer and nearer, with a puppy dog smile pasted on his haunting lips, she felt herself melting into his gaze.

Wrapping his hands incredibly lightly around her slime waste, he feigned insecurity, looking timid and unsure on the outside, while laughing in contentment on the inside. She was putty in his hands. So.. that was what she wanted all along. The princess had a secret. She got off on ridiculously shy and helpless men. Perhaps she enjoyed the supreme power she felt she displayed over them. And so he let her decide where she wanted him.

She wanted him to kiss her.. but he remained timid and unaware of her desire simply content to observe her in his soft embrace. Why couldn't he just be his usual domineering self and take over from where they had left off.. excluding the ass groping part of course. She had admittedly made a mistake and blown up on him for no reason and in doing so made him shy and unable to react the way he had before. So it was her turn to play in control. Leaning on her tip toes.. she stretched herself to the fullest height, still an inch or so from his slightly grinning face.. He made no attempt to accompany her.

Ah! The sweet feeling of victory. She was nearly screaming for him to touch her.. to kiss her.. to take her. But he denied her unvoiced pleas for several moments longer before begrudgingly complying. No.. it wasn't that he didn't want to kiss her again.. By all means.. every single part of his body was screaming for more of the sweet luxury of her pouty lips but seeing her in such a disillusioned state was more the triumphant to him. It was pure bliss. He'd gotten what he wanted and sealed the victory with a small, sweet kiss. She wanted him.

Suddenly she pulled away, pushing herself from his embrace. What was this! He bared his teeth, in frustrated seeping anger. He THOUGHT he'd just handled this outrageous little situation. Now a look of hurt and confusion was placed over her previously pleading face. He didn't even need to ask.. she knew he was angry and needed to know why she continued her silent torment.

"No.. I .. I can't. I love Yamcha."

OHhhhhh and SO close. This is the more recent Camaro, afraid I have to inform you that due to having to send my comp in to be "prettied" up, I'm not going to be updating for at least a week and a half. But I want you to know, I REALLY appreciate the reviews!

You know, I don't think it had this many at this point last time I wrote it. CRAZY! But hey, we all know it's the quality, not the quantity and so far, I'm SO impressed with how many people seem to sincerely GET and understand the story.

You guys are awesome. Thank you.

Love

Camaro


	12. Chapter 12

**Dark Angel**

**Chapter 12**

The Princess had rejected him. It was fact that he could neither fathom nor deny. A feeling so terrible, it seemed to wallow in his stomach, fluttering painfully about and drawing strength. It felt so empty. He had left her. Just left her to wander the fearsome hallways until either she found her way or light came, either way he didn't care. He hadn't done it to be wicked, as she most likely figured. He just didn't trust himself with her.

He sighed. There was a down side to his family line. One and only one but powerful enough to conquer the bearer of it's brunt. To a demon who carried on the family line, it was powerful enough to be the ultimate ally or the supreme destroyer. It was himself. The true self that lay beneath the powerful flesh and surfaced only when needed. When the rage bubbled forth and the demon within awoke, taking over. It was the monster within and when in control, was quite simply out of control. It made the bearer completely unaware of consequences or even actions. The rage took over the host and when all needed had been acquired, lay dormant once more, despite the possible dire consequences caused. The monster had no conscience or allies when unleashed.

To Vegeta, it was a gift. A sort of secret weapon you could say. Often, he could feel the creature within, scratching at his chest, begging to be freed and reek havoc on whom-so-ever had stirred its rest. Only at times when his anger awoke, did he nearly lose himself entirely into the blackness that was the pure demon.

He had allowed it only a few times in his life. When all was said and done, not one creature existed that had lived to tell the tale. Once, he could remember awakening in a pool of blood, believing it at first to be his own, only later to find it belonged to nearly 35 angels and 27 of his own men. He couldn't even recall what had transpired, only remembering the feeling of hatred seeping into his stomach right before the darkness swelled over his black eyes. And with a sadistic smirk he had lifted himself out of the murky stream, peeling off the shards of flesh that had stuck to his armor. To this day the entire experience remained a mystery.

But now his other side was threatening to unleash itself again. That name, that dreaded name: Yamcha. The mere mention of it stirred the dragon within, taunting it with imaginary prey. He could feel its sharp talons scratching at his insides, begging to be let out..

'Only for a moment,' it claimed. 'I promise you won't be sorry.'

But he knew better.

The creature was as much dead as alive. When it overpowered the host through blind rage, it was a living breathing entity of the inhabited being. But that in itself made it dead, simply because the host was incapacitated. There was no talking to the creature. No pleading. No mercy. It was void of emotion. Whether it spoke or not, he couldn't be sure. Again, he couldn't remember a thing. But something told him it did, confessing the deepest feelings buried inside. It was a wretched curse and also, a beautiful blessing. It could save or damn you. So he denied it.

But still it stirred, the rejection its only driving force. He had to unleash some of this pent up energy that it thrived from.

Walking slowly into his enormous room, he smirked finding his outlets huddled together on his bed. They had felt him coming and we're embraced together, arms and legs bound together in a sensual tangle as they obliviously explored each other's mouth, pretending not to have noticed the dark sinister creature who had just entered the room.

He smirked watching as one of the whore's tongue slide around the other's lips, making circles. The other closed her eyes and moaned, letting her fingers glide along the crevices of the other woman. They peeped open their eyes in one swift movement and smiled seductively at him, gesturing with their fingers for him to join. He grinned even more, crossing his arms and holding his ground. He lifted his hand and made his index finger move from side to side.

"Ah ah ah… you'll have to convince me more then that." And then he lowered his gleaming eyes at them. "You'll have to make me want to come."

She had finally found her way. She had worried that she'd be forever lost in such a confusing place, but had been incredibly relieved to notice the familiar provocative paintings and nude statues. Who would have believed a stark naked picture of a man and woman engaging in fornication could warm some one's heart so much.

She still couldn't believe that bastard had left her. Just left her to roam the freezing cold hallways all night long. Creep.

But then, could she blame him?

YES!

But still.. part of her knew how angry he must have been. To be honest, her mentioning Yamcha had probably surprised her more than him. She hadn't even thought about him before she had blurted it out. And secretly, she knew that she hadn't been thinking about him at all that night. It had been the first time since her abduction that her constant thought track hadn't been consumed by memories of her love for him. And the fact that such a distraction had been Vegeta, frightened her.

She should have known better then to kiss him. What was she thinking? It was a story as old as time itself. The forbidden enchanter capturing the heart of the one denied it the most. A sort of twisted Romeo and Juliet metaphor.

The prey falling for the hunter.

It was a beautifully ironic story but did it ever end well? She couldn't recall any that did.

There was Cyprus, the mighty Angelic Queen of ancient times, that was said to have fallen in love with a lowly servant man named Brolli. But in the end, he had been slain by her father and she, in turn, drove a blade through her heart at his grave.

Also, she had learned of an ancient legend that had mentioned something to the extent of an angel falling in love with a mighty demon but nothing conclusive. She remembered the time in the old dusty library, where she had feverously gone through a faze of wanting to be an all-wise and wondrous book scholar. She had come across the myth by simple accident but found it to be fascinating. It was said that Angels and Demons were created to be one single race, a perfect one at that. But something had gone wrong and split the creation in half, the two sides as different as night and day. One blessed with a merciful heart and beautiful appearance, the other wretchedly cast down from the heavens to dwell in shame at its treacherous, stone cold heart. But as she read on, she had been drawn in by another legend.

That of the treaty. The treaty of all time, to end all wars, to end the separation of the two creations. By love and sacrifice, it would be won.

She mused with herself that it was talking about her and Vegeta. But he didn't love her, nor she him. He wouldn't sacrifice his pride enough to set aside their differences. He was a proud, arrogant King, and made no attempt to conceal what he was so proud over. She knew he'd never bend to her. Not really. She had been right you know. About his insincerity. He'd had ulterior motives all along. But how could someone so wicked have made her feel so wonderful? She had meant what she said. No one had ever given her such a gift. And she refused to erase the fact that he'd done something for her no one could ever duplicate or succeed. For a split second, she could have sworn she meant something to him.

And she had to know.. NOW!...

"Tiring out so quickly?" He taunted the panting woman, laying on the bed nearly unconscious in her bliss. She was wrapped up in a small sheet, barely covering over anything. He turned a delicious gaze to the woman at his right, who was just now recovering and ready for another go.

"Your friend 12 is a weakling, how about you number 18?" He sneered, sweat dripping from his brow, his breath came in wisps. But she was a strong one and they both knew it.

"Give it your best shot." She flirted, moving tenaciously towards him.

Taking her inviting proposition, he wrapped his arms around her, never kissing her lips but taking in her scent. He ran his fangs along her throat, taunting her further. They tumbled around the enormous bed, not even bothering to avoid the other concubine and knocking her to the floor. Vegeta could care-less. What good was she to him now anyways? He might as well exterminate her. She was useless. 18 however, presented herself as quite the delicacy, much less fragile then the other women in his harem. And so he could nearly unleash all of his previously pent up fury on her.

He bit down into her throat, just lightly enough not to break the skin, but enough to feel the scream of pleasure that ripped through her esophagus. Tangling them in the satin red sheets, she barely noticed being levitated into the air until her back was pressed tightly against the ceiling and he was grinning devilishly.

"Vegeta.. I-" She halted. She stared wide eyed at the ceiling. Wrapped in silky red sheets was the Demon King, and pinned on top of him was a blonde demon, sandwiched between him and the ceiling, much as she had been not long before. She was.. in pain. Screaming and moaning in obvious terror she had her teeth clinched and eyes shut as she seemed to be kissing his shoulder. Every tendon in his body was rippling and his breath came in sharp throaty gusts. She could have sworn she saw every vein in his rock hard arms and the muscles bulged much larger than she'd ever seen them. His strong back and shoulders tensed and relax over and over as he bore into his victim.

Looking down in shame she saw the other woman, crumpled unconscious on the floor. She covered her mouth and her cheeks blushed a deep deep red. Now she knew. And now she hated him more than ever. She couldn't even dare another look. She tore into a full-fledged run and flung open the doors, scampering outside. But he'd heard her. And the other woman had seen.

Slamming the door, Bulma ran to her bed, both embarrassed and hurt.

He was.. He was.. with some one else.

Shit. She couldn't even justify being so upset. Why should she care? She'd known all along. He never denied that he kept concubines in his room at night. But, somehow, she hadn't even put two and two together. She buried her face in her hands, desperate for tears that had been dried up. She'd cried too much today. And so she sat, huddled in the corner of her bed, ashamed at herself for being ashamed at him.

How in the hell was he going to explain this one? Now he'd done it. She'd never speak to him again. By all the stars in heaven! He'd probably traumatized her. And what exactly was he supposed to do now! Hm? Explain to her the birds and the bees! And why were they called that? What the fuck did birds and bees have to do with any of it? A sly grin graced his moisture slicked face as he walked down the hall to her room, completely and utterly dark. He sighed, unsure how exactly he was going to go about this. Not really sure why he was going about it at all.

She knew he slept with concubines. What, did she think he only used them to keep warm! Well, actually it was quite a sad possibility. He cursed heaven for bearing such a naïve and ignorant creature. Leave it to Angels to produce such an insolent breed, not even explaining to them the act of intercourse. Damn Angels. Now what was he going to do? Did it even matter? A part of him claimed that it did and that he'd better get his ass in there and give a damn good explanation. And so, clad in his silk black boxers, he charged self assuredly into her room.

And she was asleep. How the hell did she get to sleep so fast? Was she faking? She had to be. He leaned over her small form, buried beneath the covers.

"I know you're awake Angel." He whispered inches from her exposed ear.

"Go away Vegeta." She mumbled, shoving her head farther beneath the shield of covers. He sighed trying in vain to find her beneath the large black comforter.

"Woman…. I-.. Bulma.." He found a clump of bluish silver hair muddled on top of her head. "About that.. I-.."

He was rudely cut off.

"Go away Vegeta.. You smell like a whore."

His eyes widened. Had she REALLY just said that to him! The ruler of Hell? The man who held her life in his hand! Telling him to go away, like some petty little boyfriend to be ignored when she decided? Finding her arm beneath the covers, he viciously yanked her out of bed.

"Are you crazy!" He spat in between his clenched teeth. He could feel the rage seeping into his veins, pounding in his chest. The blood began to seep into his eyes, covering the white. She screamed and tried to pull away, not in stubbornness but in actual terror.

"Vegeta your eyes!" She shrieked.

Fear pertruded every part of her body.. He'd never looked like this before. She'd seen his eyes turn red before, but this was entirely different. The veins in his eyes had gathered so tightly, it appeared as if his eyes were made of blood. Just when the last of the white was being covered over, he calmed himself, the room temperature falling rapidly from nearly boiling hot, to the cold temperature it was before. Still her heart pumped rapidly in her chest and she was sure with his sensitive hearing, he was aware. What had happened?

"Vegeta.. I-"

"I don't know why you give a shit. Just wait until I give you back to your precious little Prince. Then it won't matter who I'm screwing, just as long as you're as far away from me as you can possibly be."

He actually seemed hurt (if it were possible for him to even look that way) this seemingly genuine, poorly concealed hurt.

"Vegeta .. I... I don't know what you want me to say.." she stammered gazing into his dark eyes.

"Say I have a heart." His eyes pleaded. "Say that you care for me."

Was that really what he wanted? She had never known the life he had. She'd been loved and cherished as a child. But she knew it had not been so for him. She knew no one had ever told him such things in his life. But..

But... could she?

"Say that you care for me!" he demanded. He fought his own voice, the volume threatening to crack. An odd, strained sensation pulled at him and he swallowed hard. Why couldn't she just say it? Why couldn't she lie to him?

An eternity past before she glared proudly at him.

"No Vegeta." She stated harshly. He was shocked. Her eyes darkened and she gazed deeper into his eyes. "You tell me first."

The request was simple. But would he set aside his pride to tell her what she knew at one point he must have been feeling? They had spent too much time together to deny the ties that bound them. They had been near to each other for 3 weeks. Surely he had developed something for her. But only if he had a heart. Another of his questions she couldn't answer. Because honestly, she didn't know.

His hard, cold gaze examined her sharply, cutting through her resolve. Was this how she had felt the first time she'd met him? So cold and afraid? So utterly helpless?

"Never.." he whispered in a dark voice. "I will never tell you such things."

He began to walk from the room, strutting angrily towards the large wooden doors.

"I'm not a liar." He declared, turning out the doors and leaving her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Dark Angel **

**Chapter 13**

The concubines next to him stirred fitfully. But he didn't care. He didn't care about anything, right? Watching the deep red sun rise, he tried not to ponder over what she had said. Asking him to tell her something both knew he couldn't feel. He didn't have a heart. He knew it. But he had accepted it a long time ago and used it to his advantage. What good would it do him as a King anyways? He was entitled to make decisions that no one else wanted to.

Besides, Angels had hearts. But they were weak. What good did it do them? Only made them more emotional, more able to feel pain. So if all that having a soul meant, was that it would magnify all emotions, is it really such a loss to be denied one? A soul was over rated. Besides, he mused dejectedly, Angels were most definitely a hypocritical people. With their high morals and merciful ways, you'd think they could show some compassion. Some understanding. But no.. they cursed Demons for what they were, casting them down from the heavens, denying them the grace of the sun. No.. they were not all that they were cracked up to be. He knew first hand. Disgraceful creatures.

How old had he been when seeing his first one? Nearly 5 he imagined. But still, it was fresh in his mind. They had all been gathered, him, Draco and his father into a large meeting room. He couldn't even remember the room, only that it was intolerably light and refined. It seemed to almost sting his flesh. And, walking into the room through two doors, were the most beautiful creatures he'd ever laid his eyes on. Gorgeous light skin and wings. Their wings. He could remember wanting to touch the feathery members.. To slide his small dimpled hand down the shimmering silk, just for a moment. They were so graceful, so unlike his own, which, despite his fathers assurance, he believed he'd never grow into. But they hadn't thought he was beautiful.

He gritted his teeth just recalling the scowls sent his way. All his life he had been informed of the preposterous, weak ways of Angels. Their complex emotions, their pity.. but none, not one bit of those characteristics had been show to him. The tall light strangers look down at him in utter disgust, as if he were nothing more then an insect that should be forever stomped from existence. He was nothing more than a lowly, desperate creature of Hell… below them.

Such wretched creatures. So unfair. He had been born this way, had he not? Denied the right to see the holy sun. Denied entrance into the grace of God. And for what? Being born? And so, early on, he decided that it was barbaric. His father was right to destroy the treacherous creatures. They would have done no less to him if given the opportunity. And thus, he had brought up in blood and hatred. How exactly was he supposed to care? Why should he feel inadequate that he didn't have a soul? As if it did the nasty heavenly race any good anyways. He was damned… and he accepted it with brute force and defilement. He would have it no other way.

The whores stirred once more, waking each other up with their pitiful groans. Blinking their eyes in the now brightly burning sun, they stretched, pulling towards him. They circled around him, kissing and nuzzling his strong neck. They whimpered in their need, oblivious to the blank look in his eyes, clueing them into the fact that he was far off from the present. And so when he glared at them, they were surprised. They looked longingly at him, begging for him to suppress the growing tension in their bodies. Vegeta was by far the strongest and most skillful man in Hell, in more ways then one. But he only growled, roughly pushing them away as he crawled out of bed.

Why should he give them what they wanted, when he was sadly being denied what he desired most? Freedom from the dejected feeling his body was constantly being cursed with. He knew the only answer lied in her. She had instilled such a seed of self hatred in him, and until she was gone, he knew it would never die. And so, he began asking himself if he had the strength to pluck out the seed. To tear out the roots.

To kill her.

Bulma awoke with Radditz standing over her, the crimson sun high in the blazing sky.

"The fires of Hell are burning brightly today, Princess." He smiled genuinely.

She was almost shocked. He looked almost exactly like Goku when he smiled like that. The resemblance was uncanny, if not for the outrageous hair; and of course the fact that he was a demon. Still, it sent warm waves into her heart just to catch a glimpse of something so pleasurably familiar.

"A messenger has been sent from your father, Princess. He is to meet my Lord in two days." He beamed happily.

"What?" She shrieked, fully awakened by the news.

"All of Hell is rejoicing your Highness. The castle is stirring and you, the most important, are still in bed!"

He certainly was in a good mood, she remarked almost happily. He probably despised being her babysitter as much as she did, and would be relieved when the whole ordeal was finished.

Bulma dove out from underneath her protective covers, clad only in her bra and underwear. She paid no heed to his fierce blush and fidgeting hands, as she pulled her stained, bloody, torn white dress over her head. Gazing over at him and trying to get his attention, she noticed that he basically refused to meet her eyes. It had never been a problem before. Especially when he had insisted on flirting with her.

"What's wrong with you?" She demanded, only half hearted. Well, it wasn't like she wouldn't be a little flustered if he had bounded into her room in a pair of speedos, but he was ridiculously avoiding her.

"Well.. I.." he stammered.

"Radditz, it's not like you haven't seen me in my bra before. What's with you?"

He straightened up, going from Goku look-alike, to powerfully in-control Demon Guard, in a matter of about three seconds.

"I just refuse to touch another man's property. That's all." He said flatly, still noticeably avoiding her angry stare.

"I'm no man's property Radditz!" She scolded, cocking her head to the side. "Whose property do you think I am?"

He faltered slightly, pausing for words.

"Forgive me Princess." He said curtly, before turning on his heels to exit her room. "I was misinformed."

Radditz could be so strange. One minute he acts like a modern day Casanova, the next he won't even look into her eyes for fear of the wrath of another man. How strange he could be. Still, she scampered after him, not wanting to lose him in the maze of hallways and corridors. It wasn't a long walk, and soon she was faced with the sounds of thousands of demons, ranting and raving in a way they often did when attending their wild parties.

She stood in a room larger than she'd ever seen. It seemed as if it stretched for a mile across and a mile high. An uncountable number of long tables littered the black marbled floor, drinks piled high upon them. And demons. More demons than she'd ever seen, laughing and carrying on in a violent way that was befitting to their race. Black tattered wings decorated the mess hall and she shrank away from the intimidating scene, trying in vain to camouflage into the surroundings. It didn't work and soon all the millions upon millions of beady black eyes were bearing into her.

Expecting utter distain and rejection from them, her mouth fell when, as a large hoard, they cheered loudly in her honor, lifting their full glasses into the air and praising her, as if she'd given them Heaven on a platter. And there sat their proud King, perched high on his skeleton throne, looking as if Heaven was already his. And he wasn't alone, for straddling both legs, were two gorgeous concubines, clad in shiny pleather that covered next to nothing. To her ultimate dismay, she recognized the blonde from last night, beaming at her with sleezy eyes. Vegeta gestured for her and Radditz to come nearer and so they picked their way through the messy crowd and stood uncomfortably before him and his throne.

"Princess, you're presence here is welcome. Today is a day of rejoicing in your honor." He winked. "You are being held in high regard on this day. I suggest you put aside your differences and enjoy the celebrations."

He smirked, with that smirk that made her crazy. She was about to decline pleasantly, ready to inform him that she wanted no part of his bloody, drug-infested celebration, when, grinning, the Blonde demon wrapped her arms protectively around the King, nuzzling her face into the crook of Vegeta's neck. It made Bulma's firm resolve turn to ice and shatter.

"Oh… come on little Princess.." she taunted, pressing her knee closer to Vegeta. He could only smirk, showing his gleaming fangs.

"Why don't you join us? I promise it'll be fun." She moved even closer to him, riling in spurts of angry breath coming from the Angel.

"Besides.." she continued, placing her delicate little fingers on this side of the gleaming King's face. "Vegeta can handle three, no problem. I can learn to share."

Jealousy sky-rocketed, nearly taking flight with sanity, and she had to freeze her body before tearing off the demon's face. How dare she pretend she owned Vegeta! She could feel herself screaming as they gazed down at her. She felt humiliated and cheapened, as their dead eyes examined her enraged form. Mostly though, she felt the unrivaled jealousy as he wrapped his arms securely around the woman's thin waist, thinner then her own, and squeezed, winking sexily at her.

She felt her self subconsciously backing up, but probably wasn't even aware of it until her back smacked into Radditz rock-hard chest, him having to steady her so as not to fall. Glaring, she stuck her nose up haughtily and marched rudely through the crowd. The demons paid no heed to her as she bumped and pushed her way through them. Such insolent behavior was common-place at gatherings such as these and they paid no mind to civil decencies.

Radditz had not missed the gesture from the King, nor the purposeful instilling of jealousy from the concubine. He followed her stomping form back to her room, where he walked in on her looking in the mirror.

What did that concubine have that she didn't? Of course, the answer was obvious. She had class, a body that could turn women green and a beautiful face, clad in dark makeup. Tramp! She hated her.

She turned, seeing Radditz's confused face looking back at her through the mirror, as he stood in, what she had come to identify as, her door frame.

"Am I really so different from them, Radditz?" She sighed.

He groaned at her, looking a tad bit scornful at her question. He crossed his arms, still looking at her eyes in the reflection.

"Of course not Angel." He stated matter-of-factly. He was a kind person when he attempted it. "You have your similarities. You know how beautiful you are."

She loved when he flattered her because he just did it so monotone and logical. You were almost forced to believe him, as he stated things with such firm and unretaliable conviction there was no denying it at the present. And so she simply flushed as he continued.

"But there are many differences." He shrugged "You are free to make your own choices. You will not always be owned by the King."

Bulma's plan to stab the demon woman in her sleep faltered slightly.

"What do you mean?" She asked. Partially, she didn't want him to answer, not wanting him to dull the blade of hatred she had from witnessing that scene. He sighed, still standing with his arms crossed.

"It's not an easy life for a concubine to live." He stated almost painfully.

It was strange for her to see him look so dejected as he was. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why. All the constant questions had made her feel insolent lately.

"Forever bound by a life of slavery, nothing is your's." He stated. "Not the food you eat, not the clothes on your back, not even your own body. You are owned from a young age, and you will live and you will die as a slave. No, it is not an easy life to live my Princess."

Again, she wanted to slap herself for being so heartless. She hadn't even thought of a concubine as really being a slave. They hung lazily around the palace, wearing next to nothing, some horribly out of shape, and yet, when the truth was revealed, they were nothing more then toys for the King's amusement. But should she hate Vegeta? He had probably been raised around such ideas and found no logic in changing such a provision. So she was left with no one to hate, no one to despise for her growing jealousy.

"But you have your own choices, and the opportunities." He continued. "The King shows you incredibly high favor and yet you reject him."

Radditz had obviously gone mad.

"I want to know why." He demanded suddenly.

So. He was asking her why SHE rejected Vegeta? Was it not the other way around? He refused to tell her that he cared for her and she refused to kiss him the other night for fear of her dying emotions involving Yamcha, not to mention the fact that such ordeals were forbidden to the highest extreme. So really, who had rejected who? She did not know. And so she decided to go with the pleasures of simplicity.

"Because I love another Radditz." She breathed, examining her hair in the mirror, as if the statement was nothing more then a burden of her appearance.

"No you don't." He stated so blatantly she almost choked.

How did he say things so convincingly? She was almost at the point of believing him.

"How would you know anything about that!" she snarled. "You don't know anything about me!"

"I know you don't love that Prince."

"Well, I certainly don't love Vegeta!" She spat.

He simply shrugged.

"What does love have to do with it?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Everything Radditz!" She threw her hands into the air frustrated. "It has to do with!-" she lowered her voice noticeably. "..with everything."

She sighed, annoyed with the conversation already.

"No woman has ever denied the King anything least of all herself."

"Well, it's not exactly hard." She sighed again, brushing her hair.

"For all of Hell's women, it is the ultimate temptation. To be pursued by the Demon King himself? Even those who have already been taken find themselves willing." He spoke as if he were thinking of a long lost memory from times far away. He just had that far off look in his deep eyes and a hushed tone in his throaty voice.

Bulma moved to her bed, motioning for him to sit. He observed the offer hesitantly, as if such was forbidden, before gently taking a seat across from her. He noticed how cushiony the bed was, how it seemed to sink beneath his weight. Strange seens how he slept quite peacefully on the floor of his room.

"What do you mean?" She asked. So she wanted to know the truth. How would he go about it? It was a tale that hurt to even imagine. He'd never told it to anyone. Was he ready? Sighing, he decided he'd carried the burden of the secret far too long on his heavy shoulders.

"I was not always a guard Princess." He spoke slowly, absorbing every word, as if hearing the tale being spoken aloud for the first time. "At one point, I was no more than a low -level soldier, living on the outskirts of Hell City with my family. I had a mother, a father, and…" He paused, composing his thoughts. "And a woman."

Bulma just nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"It was not an unhappy life for me." He went on. "I was content with my ranking, free to go and do as I wish; come and go as I pleased. But I guess preferred to be with her. She was what you Angels would have considered a wife. Her name was Launch and she was..." he nearly choked. "She was very beautiful."

Bulma had never seen this side of Radditz: usually either calm and composed, or insolent and goofy; never the dejected and struggling Demon before her.

He could see her in his mind's eye. The beautiful face and strong body. He looked at her through nearly glazed eyes, peering in a dreamlike state, before realizing he had zoned out and continued his story, his voice low and tight.

"The fateful day came when the New King, your Vegeta," Bulma wasn't sure she liked him referring to that cheap man whore as her own, but decided to press the issue would only close him up. "… noticed her."

Bulma looked up.

"Her intense beauty was far too much for him. For you see," He swallowed. "Me and the King had grown up together, been allies in many battles, winning every one of course. But loyalty can only go so far when beauty intervenes and so it was with this. He openly propositioned her, giving her the choice in secret. Overcome by lust, she subjected." His voice had tightened too much, eventually ceasing altogether as his vocal cords strained under pressure. His face became flustered and Bulma wondered if it wouldn't be the right thing to do to allow him to continue. But he calmed himself yet again and spoke once more.

"The next day I was given a high place in the castle to "atone" for what had taken place." He scoffed in open distain. "As if any high place could erase what Launch had done."

Bulma found herself surprisingly wanting to defend the woman. It wasn't as if she had done it alone. Radditz seemed to forget that Vegeta had played a vital role in destroying his marriage. But than again, what good could it possibly do to ease the pain Radditz was obviously struggling with? It no doubt made it easier to serve such a master, if all blame was directed elsewhere. And so she kept tastefully quiet.

"Upon hearing what had transpired, I slaughtered Launch for what she had done, and threw her body into the Pits of Hell." He stated as if he were reading the words.

He was staring blankly at nothing at all, obviously so far away from where his body was presently placed. Bulma was horrified. How could he do that to his own wife! But than again, she had committed adultery, and in such a barbaric place as this, such an act was most likely a mercy killing. Somewhat civil in such a savage land.

Bulma, until she cleared her throat, unsure what was about to come out.

"I am so sorry Radditz." She stammered. She knew she was pushing it. Pity was not something you offered to a demon. It was like a direct slap in the face. A damage to their pride. And so she skipped over the formalities and let her heart do the talking.

"I don't know how you can serve him so loyally after such a deceitful act." She breathed, looking down at the swirls and designs embedded into her beautiful comforter. She felt desperately like fidgeting under his harsh gaze, but decided it would portray discomfort and insecurity, both of which she despised. And so she calmly waited for his answer. Her statement seemed to awaken him from his dreamlike state.

"What?" he snorted. "Loyalty to your King is far more important than any petty attachment. It is the foundation upon which every warrior stands. With out it, Hell itself would crumble. The King is a powerful man, Bulma. Much more powerful than his father and undoubtably more so then his legendary ancestors. But he is not invincible. Without loyalty from his servants, he could very well fall and Hell would be defenseless without his supreme leadership. His family line is strong but not unbreakable. Loyalty must take first place in a warrior's life. Without it, I would perish." He finished.

A moment of silence passed between them.

Such a noble race were these Demons, Bulma decided. Savage and reckless at times, they retained an air of sophisticated pride that far out seeded their known nature. How could anyone think less of them? In a sense, their ideals and concepts far out seeded that of an Angel's. They had honor and pride. Neither of which could be denied or insulted without dire consequences. 

Finally, she spoke up.

"What Vegeta did is utterly inexcusable Radditz." She stated coldly. "But, perhaps it is for the best."

This Radditz had not suspected. He had been firm set on defending his King's pride, no matter what the cost of his own. He had never anticipated her predicament. She smiled, glad to have his full attention. This wouldn't be easy for her to say.

"Maybe I…" she sighed, gathering her courage. "Maybe I don't love Yamcha." She admitted it slowly, seemingly discovering the fact herself for the first time.

"But I do know that love, true love," she continued. "does not yield to temptation. Of any kind! No matter how powerful, no matter how strong, nothing can break true love. Perhaps what Vegeta truly did was set you free. He let you know of Launch's conniving ways, perhaps he had even known of them long before. Perhaps, strange as it is, it was his way of telling you."

Bulma had surprised herself by defending Vegeta. Through each word, she was more and more convinced of their hidden truth.

"And maybe," she shrugged. "maybe promoting you to a higher position wasn't a sad excuse for atonement. Maybe that wasn't it at all. I think that it was his own way of consoling your loss, comforting your grief at finally knowing the truth. And although I'm sure he would never admit it, maybe he just wanted you closer to him. More.. in his life, you could say."

She spoke gently, but with superb conviction and truth. He felt as if a heavy load had been lifted from his shoulders.

All this time, he had felt a hidden animosity towards his King, only having it revealed by a woman; an Angel no less. And her words were spoken with honor and truth, reflecting the characteristics that the sentences themselves held. She spoke with knowledge far beyond her years; not only beautiful but wise. If he didn't know of his King's secret infatuation with her, he would have claimed her for himself, taking her then and there into his world.

But as it was, he knew that, although Vegeta was oblivious to it himself, he was developing dangerous feelings for her. He imagined that the transformation was affecting the Demon King very deeply, as such feelings are foreign to such a hateful man. Still, the truth would come out eventually, as it always did. How incredible for Vegeta this was. Radditz had known the young man since he had been a small Prince, and yet never had he been equipped with a tender heart or a conscience. How amazing that so much later in his life he was being contaminated by such seeming flaws. How amazing indeed. How scary mostly.

But Vegeta was reacting as could be expected. Using his forever handy tools such as jealousy, envy and rejection, he was predictable only to Radditz. What would forever remain a mystery to the world, Radditz knew only as fact. Only he could see the silent war ragging inside of Vegeta's empty chest.

But would his journey become the Princess's end? The thought brought unstable fear into his stomach. He had already seen the flashes of anger run through her eyes. Heard the enraged out breaks of a temper never before unleashed upon the universe. So it raised a question. Just how much could a demon influence an Angel? How far could Vegeta push her, until she was demon all but in appearance? He knew that he couldn't allow that to happen. Her innocence was what enthralled Vegeta's curiosity of her. It spawned an unhealthy infatuation that would ebb if the deterioration of her heart continued. At this point, he was intrigued both by her beauty and her innocence. But what if her innocence was won over by the blackness growing in her heart? Would the shallow beauty that still existed be enough to sway his straying morality? He knew only this. Only time could answer the haunting questions that tore at his mind. Until it answered, he felt it his duty to protect his King and his friend. For Bulma could only be called such after opening his eyes to the reality of Vegeta's true side. He could thank her only by protecting the thing that made her who she was. He would protect her soul.

Standing up, Bulma noticed that again, Radditz was mentally off in another world. Where he went, she figured she'd never know. But her mind was not on the deep psychological mysteries hiding behind his calm façade. She had a plan.

Admiring herself in the full length mirror, she nearly blushed. How was it that one moment she was feeling grossly huge and unattractive and the next she could turn herself on? She giggled at the thought. What some makeup and a gown could do...

A beautiful smirk, nearly rivaling Vegeta's own, graced her cheeks, flowing resiliently into her full eyes.

"Radditz." She inquired hotly.

He hardly even looked up until she placed her foot on the table next to her bed, her entire leg planted in front of his path of vision. He looked as if she'd just thrown a bucket of ice cold water upon his head.

"You weren't listening to me." She explained pouting her lips at him. He gave a goofy grin she was beginning to get used to, wrapping one hand on the back of his head, giggling.

"Uh.. ha ha .. yeah uh.. sorry about that."

It was only for a brief second, but she could almost have sworn that she saw Goku standing right were Radditz was. The two just had such uncanny similarities. It simply amazed her. But she was too busy for such mind tricks. She had plans to make. Things to ready.

"Radditz, I need you to do me a favor." She implied with an edge.

It seemed to him more and more often these days, she had a dark gleam in her eyes. Something evil was brewing deep inside and it constantly had him on edge. He worried that perhaps the promised evil seed had already grown roots, deep enough to leave a permanent impression. But then, her entire experience in Hell would forever scar her. So, he put on a grin and complied with her wishes, gesturing with his head for her to go on.

"I need you to get me a dress.. Something…mmm…" she pondered innocently for a moment before the wicked gleam returned and her smirk widened. "Something sexy. Something you wouldn't mind seeing me wear."

He was more than happy to comply, but the itching in his stomach would simply not ebb..What was this all about? Was she really going to attend the festival? Did she not know the dangers that were constantly at work in such a wild atmosphere? But he knew the look she had all too well; nothing he said or did would sway her. That much was evidently clear. And so.. with a bit of the familiar glint in his own eyes.. He shook his head and left to make ready such a gown that his eyes would envy the very ground she set foot upon. Let Vegeta's stone cold heart reject this one!


End file.
